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DIALECTS 

FOR 

ORAL INTERPRETATION 

SELECTIONS AND DISCUSSION 



BY 

GERTRUDE E. JOHNSON 

Assistant Professor in the Department of Speech in the University 

of Wisconsin. Author of "Modern Literature for Oral 

Interpretation," and "Choosing a Play" 




NEW YORK 

THE CENTURY CO. 

1922 



T 






., A r 



Copyright, 192^, by 
The Cextuey Co. 



Printed in U. S. A. 



AUG 15 '22 



TO 

J. M. O'NEILL 

WHOSE LEADERSHIP HAS MADE 

CONSTRUCTIVE WORK 

POSSIBLE 



■4* 



yiii Acknowledgments 

To Eidgeley Torrence for permission to use *'The Rider of 
Dreams. ' ' 

To Mrs. Charles Battell Loomis for permission to use Mr. Loomis' 
selections. 

To the Editor of '^ Country Life" for the use of the poem ''The 
Twa Weelums ' ' by Mrs. Violet Jacobs. 



PEEFACE 

AS in an earlier book, ''Modern Literature for Oral 
Interpretation, ' ' the author has been handicapped in 
the selection of material for this book by refusals and 
prohibitive costs. Much, therefore, that should have been 
included does not appear. It is hoped, however, that the 
book as a whole may be of service in a field constantly in 
need of material of every sort. Certainly, there is need 
of a collection solely of dialect forms, since in the whole 
range of research but one such book was found. 

It has been the intention in the discussion to offer as 
concrete suggestions as possible on matters which have had 
little direct explanation in any of our texts. The book is 
not meant to be a research treatise on dialect, but a usable 
text and source of material in dialect form; suitable both 
for study for the sake of the dialect, and also to use as good 
program numbers. Dialect study should receive more 
attention as a desirable medium in training students in 
expression as well as for use upon programs. 

It will be found that all selections of what is sometimes 
termed "colloquial dialect" (Riley, Foss, Field, etc.) have 
been omitted; also all "child dialect" (Cooke, Riley, Field, 
etc.). These are not clearly "dialect," at least, not in the 
sense in which it is considered in this book. Such selections 
do not call for so complete change in vocal elements, such 
as pitch, quality, and rhythm, or have as great variety in 
corresponding bodily changes as the types of selections 
herein included. They are, however, often excellent ma- 
terial for interpretation, either as studies or as program 



X Preface 

numbers, and they are comparatively numerous and easy 
to locate. 

In choosing the selections, those which include a great 
many strange or obsolete words have been purposely 
omitted; since it is not the intention that the selections 
should prove of use for such study of words in dialect. 
The material is confined for the most part to the attempt , 
of those who are native to another country to use the 
English language. They are in the form, not too difficult, 
of ''The foreigner speaking English and including two 
factors, his own language and the language of his adop- 
tion." 

Whereas the effort has been made to make the selections 
fairly inclusive of as many types of dialect as possible, 
many have perforce been omitted. For instance, no 
cockney dialect is included. Kipling has much that is 
excellent but not obtainable. It will be noted that the 
selections are written entirely in dialect. Complete dialect 
being the only form desirable for the aims of this book, it 
will be seen at once that the selection was much more 
difficult. 

The inclusion of an extensive bibliography, found at the 
end of the book, should prove of great assistance to teachers 
and others in locating selections desired. For much of the 
work of this bibliography, I am indebted to Frances Ellen 
Tucker of Dodgeville, Wis., High School, Department of 
Speech. 

Having felt the need of some such compilation as this 
present one through a long period of years, it is offered 
in the hope that it will prove helpful to a large number 
who have been handicapped in the use of Dialect mainly 
because it has been so hard to find. 






CONTENTS 

PART i 

Discussion 

SECTION PAGE 

I A General Survey . ., . 3 

II The Meaning and Significance of Dialect .... 11 

III How TO Study a Dialect 19 

IV Advantages in the Interpretative Use of Dialect . 31 
V The Monologue and Its Interpretation ..... 39 

PAET II 

Material for Interpretation 

VI Scotch : . 45 

VII Italian 75 

VIII Negro 89 

IX French and French Canadian .. .; ,., .: . . . 125 

X Scandinavian r.: . . . . • 145 

XI Irish 157 

XII Miscellaneous i. . . . 203 

XIII One-Act Plays in Dialect .... :.j . .. :.. . 219 

PART III 

Bibliography 

XIV General Eeferences .^ . .i .: . . 281 

XV Detailed List of Selections 286 

Index 305 



PART I 

DISCUSSION 

SECTION I 
A GENEEAL SURVEY 



DIALECTS FOR 
ORAL INTERPRETATION 

SECTION I 
A GENERAL SURVEY 

WHEN one interested in the field of interpretation 
is convinced of the benefits to be derived from the 
use of Dialect for the interpreter, both in vocal and bodily 
reaction and development, his first thought is to survey 
the field; to determine, if possible, why others interested 
in the subject have not investigated its resources. As a 
possible clue to this last, it is necessary, first of all, to 
discover the sources of the material. 

Setting about in such a survey, the first step was to 
locate Dialect selections, and for this purpose volumes of 
selected readings compiled for use in interpretation were 
examined. Out of a total of one hundred books, only one 
was found that listed Dialect in its table of contents, nor 
was there any mention of Dialect material in the indexes or 
appendixes of the other ninety-nine.^ In this survey it 
was necessary to go over these books page by page in order 
to determine whether or not Dialect selections were in- 
cluded, and if so what particular kind of dialect was rep- 
resented (Irish, French, Chinese, etc.) ; also, the form in 
which they were written, whether prose or poetry, for this 

*A bibliography of these selections, with a chart of detailed find- 
ings, appears on pages 281-303. 

3 



4 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

was indicated in tlie index in only one instance. In the 
one hundred books a total of 6200 selections were reviewed, 
430 of which were Dialect. It should be noted here that 
more than half of the latter, or 215, were repeated two or 
three times. Of course there were some duplications in 
the other selections, but it would not lower the total more 
than 2000, so that the actual ampiint of material in dialect 
form is in the proportion of 215'' to 4200. One volume that 
purported to be wholly Dialect contained 118 selections, 
50 of which were usable. The other 68 selections were 
either three- and four-line jokes, or not real Dialects. It 
can readily be seen that there is an apparently appalling 
lack of Dialect material. Furthermore, it is little wonder 
that an instructor would not be enthusiastic in the use of 
material that has to be literally dragged from its hiding- 
place, examined, and diagnosed. The use of Dialect selec- 
tions, therefore, is likely to be greatly retarded by this one 
element alone, the finding of material. 

A glance over the Dialects included in this volume will 
perhaps reveal that the so-called Yankee, Hoosier, Child, 
and various other Dialects do not appear. These, it seems, 
are only variations within our own language, sometimes 
termed Dialect, it is true. They would seem to be, in a 
truer sense, colloquialisms, vernaculars, or provincialisms. 
Pitch, accent, emphasis, even pronunciation, as well as 
certain idiomatic expressions, may differ in different lo- 
calities throughout our country, as they do in other coun- 
tries as well ; but this is only a matter of degree, and not 
one of radical change such as will be found when the 
foreigner attempts to adopt our language. 

Mr. E. S. Sheldon has the following to say upon this 
point in his article "What Is a Dialect," found in the 
Dialect Notes of the American Dialect Society, Vol. 1. I 



Discussion 5 

quote at some length, as it may serve to clarify our dis- 
cussion to a great extent. Mr. Sheldon says: '* Language 
we consider primarily as spoken by the various individuals 
who use it. No two individuals use exactly the same 
language. All language is constantly changing and the 
gradual changes in different localities produce in time, in 
the lack of conservative or unifying forces, forms markedly 
different, even though the source of all of these may have 
been the same, that is, with only slight and unnoticed 
individual variations. These different local forms of speech 
we may provisionally call dialects, but it is evident that a 
sharp line between dialects and language can only be 
drawn after adopting strict definitions of both words, also 
that no slight line can be drawn between the slight, and 
for the most part unnoticed, differences among individuals 
speaking the same dialect or language and the more notice- 
able ones which we call differences of dialect. Dialects, 
thus understood, can not be assigned in general to definite 
regions with sharply drawn geographical limits. ..." and 
later he terms the changes that occur "Local Dialects." 
The entire article should be carefully read by all who have 
to teach in this field. 

Matters of Child Dialect offer another problem, and 
should not properly be termed Dialect, it seems. This 
speech belongs to a different world, the world of Baby- 
land. This speech can not be compared with the grown-up 
world, nor with the speech of the foreigner attempting 
to accommodate his native language to ours. The latter 
has some years of experience, while the child is just learn- 
ing. The child's speech is surely but a variation within 
our own forms, and will have but little variation in melodic 
rhythm at least. The melodic rhythm in a given language, 
together with the quality conditions, are, it seems, the final 



6 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

determining factors of differentiation for the interpreter. 

In the search through many volumes for material, one 
is struck by the fact that by far the greatest number of 
selections is in verse form. Comparatively few writers 
have used Dialect entirely in prose form. A possible ex- 
planation for this preponderance of the poetic form might 
be that Dialect is a medium of expression for a distinct 
character situation, taken more frequently than otherwise 
from the lower walks of life. Poetry idealizes, and many 
of these selections if written in prose might call forth a 
mere crude enjojnnent instead of the appreciation that the 
author desired. Considerable prose in Scotch may be 
found, and a great deal in Irish. This latter Dialect Mr. 
William H. Carpenter of Columbia College thinks should 
not come under the same sort of Dialect consideration as 
the Dialect of other foreigners in this country; indeed, he 
seems not to consider the Irishman as a ''foreigner." In 
his article ''The Philosophy of Dialect" in "Modern Lan- 
guage Notes, ' ' Vol. 1, he says : 

"The Irishman, whom we have always with us, does not 
come properly into consideration here. His language is, 
from the very start, an English patois entitled to its 
vagaries of expression by lawful transmission from a long 
line of preceding generations." 

I encountered by far the greatest difficulty in finding 
anything like good Dialect, either in prose or poetry, in 
the German, and am not at all satisfied with what is in- 
cluded. In this connection I wish to quote again from 
Mr. Carpenter, since what he has to say is very illuminat- 
ing in this connection. In the same article referred to 
above he says: 

"The German divides with the Irishman the honor of 
constituting a weighty part of our foreign element — a part 



Discussion 7 

which, from its size and importance, is quite assertive, 
and we are accustomed to read and hear frequently that 
form of English which arises from the imitation of a Ger- 
man original. To understand this international hodge- 
podge is, in some parts of the country, a linguistic problem 
that must be solved by every one, for its every-day re- 
currence is assured. In spite, however, of this widespread 
familiarity with this alien pronunciation of English it is 
curious to observe the clumsiness with which American 
writers use it. This is apt to be the case wherever it is 
employed, not only in the hastily written 'news item,' but 
may also be discovered in the last new novel. '* 

This, at least, is interesting in the light of my difficulty 
in finding Dialect in this form. 

The attitude of the ''special schools'' of expression in 
this matter is worth consideration, since they occupy an 
important position in the field of interpretation, for they 
supply very largely the teachers in this field. What the 
teacher in training learns of methods, materials, etc., she 
carries into her own work. I have wondered sometimes 
whether these schools place sufficient emphasis upon the 
study of Dialect. As far as I have been able to discover 
through evidence obtained from graduates of these schools, 
and I know it was the case in my own training, Dialect is 
not generally employed as a means or method for benefiting 
the individual in vocal and bodily reactions, nor is much 
time devoted to a study of its philosophy and possible 
advantages. What is done depends too much upon students 
who are "apt" imitators, or upon instructors who have a 
special "gift" or knowledge of some particular Dialect. 
Often, then, it may happen that only one or two Dialects 
are touched upon in an entire course, and Dialect may 
come to be considered more or less of a trick performance, 



8 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

rather ttian a fundamental study of importance to any 
teacher or interpreter. Surely, if authors of note and 
authority find the use of Dialect fundamental to the de- 
lineation of a character or situation, we should give it some 
general and serious consideration before we may hope to 
approximate the author's intention, or do justice to the 
people we are attempting to portray. There must be some 
basic truths concerning its value and use. 



I 



I 



SECTION II 

THE MEANING AND SIGNIFICANCE OF 
DIALECT 



SECTION II 
THE MEANING AND SIGNIFICANCE OF DIALECT 

DIALECT is found where a branch of the parent 
tongue is radically affected by the locality, time, 
accident, or revolutions. When an Italian, Chinese, or 
Frenchman comes to America, he comes with the language 
of his native soil, but upon his arrival finds that it no 
longer serves his purposes adequately. The removal from 
the fatherland to a new world necessitates his changing 
the parent tongue to fit new needs. Often whole words, 
phrases, idioms, etc., are transferred to the new tongue. 
The French-Canadian will say, ' ' I go to fine soiree. ' ' The 
first four words are distinctly American in form but not 
in order to tense, and this affects the melodic rhythm. 
''Soiree" is French and transferred to the new tongue. 
His native language has been radically affected by en- 
vironment and needs, and the result is a Dialect, or mixture 
of two languages. 

In this we find a possible answer to the question, **Why 
do authors use Dialect?" When one reads, ''I go to fine 
soiree, ' ' one knows immediately that it is not just any man 
talking. As far as the dialectic form is employed, it is 
accidental — a means, not an end in itself. That simple 
sentence is an expression of character, a foreign character. 
It is a word picture. An artist would depict the man in 
his native costume, posture, coloring, etc., but your author 

11 



I 



12 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

breathes very life into hini through the medium of words. 
Immediately one senses an element of the dramatic. Why ? 
Because, if one knows anything at all about the French 
Canadian, this knowledge forms a subconscious back- 
ground. One is at once upon the alert, full of expectancy, 
looking for something to happen. It need not be intense 
or swiftly moving, but just a tinge of difference will give 
it dramatic flavor. Or, if the reader knows little or noth- 
ing concerning the French Canadian, the dialectic form 
acquaints him with the fact that here is something different. 
A Dialect situation must have this dramatic element, or 
it is worth nothing. It may at times add only a grotesque 
effect or color to a situation, but it must be present in some 
degree. 

Dialect aids the reader or hearer to picture the character 
who is speaking. It establishes, to some degree, a sympa- 
thetic medium of understanding. It is much more satisfy, 
ing to have such a character speak in his own way, setting 
forth his own experiences and his reactions in his own 
Dialect, than to have some one tell about him in ordinary 
language. The reader or hearer is able to appreciate more 
fully the spirit, thought, and feeling of the character and 
situation. Dialect points up a situation, holds the details 
in focus, and gives a different mood or color to the whole. 
Recently play producers have seen fit to have music ap- 
propriate in movement and mood before the curtain rises, 
in order to establish an atmosphere. That is what Dialect 
does for fiction. As Doctor Curry ^ says, '"'Dialect is a 
kind of literary or vocal stage make-up that enables the 
reader or auditor to recognize the character.'' 

Robert Burns used this "make-up" for the speaker in 

*^*Browniiig and the Dramatic Monolog," by S. S. Curry, 
Chap. 13. 



Discussion IS 

the majority of his poems. They were in Scottish dialect, 
simple and spoken from his very heart. To quote Doctor 
Curry again, "It was native to his heart." He was in- 
timately connected with the peculiar feelings, experiences, 
and reactions of his people. In his distinctly Scottish 
poems we get a sense of the dramatic spirit of the thought, 
while in those that are known as his English poems we feel 
the lack of this element. They are wanting in appeal; 
they seem weaker, and do not stir us as do his other poems. 
Dialect is the language of the heart or emotions, and we 
react naturally to its appeal. One of the heroes of the 
hour, and a truly great man, Sir Harry Lauder, is a living 
example. He is an artist, but would his art have the same 
flavor, the same appeal, if he sang the ' ' Wee Hoose 'Mang 
the Heather" or "Roamin' in the Gloamin^ " without 
that famous Scotch burr. Through his consummate skill 
he can make an audience shout with laughter or melt with 
tears. To those who know Scotland he brings the fragrance 
of the heather, and the eerie call of the bag-pipe that tugs 
at every Scotchman 's heart ; to those who do not know his 
beloved country, he brings the vague feeling of a wonder 
country yet unseen but greatly loved. Sometimes we must 
know a man's character in order to appreciate why he did 
a certain thing, and in just this capacity is Dialect needed 
the better to suggest the experiences of a certain character 
situation. This is the real meaning and justification of 
Dialect. 

Vernaculars such as the Hoosier and Yankee find justi- 
fication in this way. Riley in his Hoosier poems establishes 
a bond of sympathy between character and reader through 
the vernacular. The stories of Alice Brown and Mary 
E. W. Freeman, as well as much of the work of Robert 
Frost and Percy Mackaye, would lose appeal and signifi- 



14 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

cance were the vernacular, the idioms, and the colloquial- 
isms of New England left out. They locate the stories. 
Though we have chosen not to call Yankee and Hoosier 
strictly Dialects, yet we feel that there is a place for the 
vernacular of different localities as well. 

The spokesmen of another race have been found in Ruth 
McEnery Stuart, F. Hopkinson Smith, Thomas Nelson 
Page, and Joel Chandler Harris, all of whom have dealt 
humorously and sympathetically with the Dialect of the 
black race. Perhaps the best of these writers, and one not 
yet mentioned, Paul Laurence Dunbar, spoke from a still 
deeper understanding of the black man, for he was the 
prophet of his own race. Sympathetic understanding is 
an element absolutely essential to Dialect. The author must 
have this, and identification in the character situation to be 
set forth, if he would appeal to the auditor or reader. It 
must appear in all of his work, whether it be humorous, 
tragic, pathetic, or tender. This sympathetic understand- 
ing and appeal is beautifully portrayed in a very short 
poem of Dunbar's, '*A Death Song": 

Lay me down beneaf de willers in de grass, 

Whah de branch. 'U go a-singin' as it pass; 

An' w'en I 's a-layin' low, 

I kin hyeah it as it go 

Singin, ' ' Sleep, my honey, tek yo ' res ' at las '. ' ' 

Lay me nigh to whah hit meks a little pool. 

An' de watah stan's so quiet lak an' cool, 

Whah de little birds in spring 

Ust to come an' drink an' sing, 

An' de chillen waded on dey way to school. 

Let me settle w'en my shouldahs drops dey load 

Nigh enough to hyeah de noises in de road; 

Fu' I t'ink de las' long res' 

Gwine to soothe my spurit bes' 

Ef I 's layin' 'mong de t'ings I 's alius knowed. 

There is one sad fact concerning Negro Dialect, though 
it may be found among the others, but in this more espe- 



Discussion 15 

cially, and that is, that many pseudo-authors who have no 
real appreciation of the wealth of beauty and rich humor 
back of the Dialect use the Dialect as an end for some poor 
mock-situation, putting uncouth and untrue expressions 
into the character's mouth. For the instructor or pupil 
of interpretation a word to the wise is sufficient: *'Know 
your authors." 

Though Doctor Drummond is not a French-Canadian, 
his constant association with these people through a long 
period of years has given insight into their lives. He has 
written several volumes of monologues in the French- 
Canadian Dialect, portraying with deep and sincere ap- 
preciation and sympathy their quaint humor. The pe- 
culiar melodic form and rhythmic movement of their 
language is delightful and exceptionally well preserved. 

No doubt the chief charm of the expression of plain 
peoples lies in the fact that they can express themselves 
with few words and great truth. They *'do not costume 
their feelings for social effect. '^ 



SECTION III 
HOW TO STUDY A DIALECT 



SECTION III 
HOW TO STUDY A DIALECT 

IN taking up the study of Dialect for interpretatijn, one 
must necessarily examine the symbols. They must then 
be analyzed and assimilated for future reference and use. 
Perhaps the most noticeable differences — those that are 
most apparent to the hearer^ — are the variations of the 
melodic rhythms in the various mother tongues. It must 
be understood that these rhythms cover a series of words 
in a phrase, clause, sentence, and entire paragraphs, as 
well as the attack on single vowels, which may be drawled, 
curved, or struck very quickly. Each melodic rhythm, 
whether it is peculiar to the French, Irish, or Italian, 
strikes us first as a totality. Examination of this effect 
shows one that the causes are many, such as variations in 
pitch, range, vocal quality, elisions, and substitutions of 
vowels and consonants, and accent or emphasis. 

Let us examine the first of these symbols, variations in 
pitch range. In the Scandinavian Dialect, for example, 
the pitch tends to be comparatively high, and the inflec- 
tional modulations and changes more frequently occurring 
from the established pitch upward. The voice tends seldom 
to fall below the established key or pitch, and the jumps 
are comparatively slow. In comparison, the Negro Dialect 
runs a wide gamut in pitch range, now high, now low, with 
frequent and abrupt changes. The Chinese, on the other 
hand, have a very high standard pitch with a range of only 

19 



20 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

two or three notes above the original pitch, and the rate 
of change is extremely staccato and rapid. 

Another symbol that we may consider here is vocal 
quality, and this deals first of all with voice placement and 
resonance. To continue with the Scandinavian example, 
the tonal condition is the result of head-tones. These need 
not be in any way nasal, but have their resonance very 
largely in the head. They are not especially musical, for 
they lack warmth and richness of quality. The German 
dialect, in opposition, has guttural tones produced far 
back in the throat passage. There is a certain richness and 
heaviness about them. The Chinese have a distinctly nasal 
twang which, when combined with the usual high pitch, 
produces a sometimes distressingly grating sound. The 
tones of the Canadian-French are well forward in the 
mouth, while the placement of the Irish voice fluctuates, 
now forward in the mouth cavity, now back in the throat 
with many sibilants. 

The nasal tone has a peculiarly flat twang or quality, and 
the only Dialects that have this to a marked degree are the 
Chinese and the Yiddish. The difference in the two as a 
vocal proposition is found in the pitch ; the Chinese having 
the higher, the Yiddish the lower pitch. As a general rule, 
the Negro has a voice of unusually pure quality. This is 
because he produces his tones easily and fully, the tones 
being unobstructed in the throat passage. Scandinavian 
and Cockney Dialects are inclined to a certain flatness or 
lack of quality, for they lack deep resonance, which makes 
for richness. Italian and French-Canadian Dialects have 
a light, musical quality — ^more delicate than deeply rich. 
It is the quality that aids so much in portraying feeling. 
Certain pitch and tone variations are peculiar to every 
tongue J they are very delicate and complicated. 






Discussion 21 

Science is now experimenting in this field, but has done 
little, so far, to help us. The interpreter must train his 
ear to catch these variations and changes. He must train 
his mind to understand them. And the third step is to 
train his vocal mechanism to reproduce them. Let it here 
be said that the ideal way to study any language, in Dialect 
or otherwise, is to hear it spoken, since there are innumer- 
able shadings impossible to catch by any other means. But 
that we can do nothing with Dialects without hearing them 
I do not agree, for this will cause their continued neglect. 
I do not believe that enough effort has been made to study 
Dialect in ways here suggested. I know from experience 
that much can be accomplished thus, even when ear ob- 
servation is not possible. When started upon the right 
track, students' interest is greatly stimulated, and in many 
instances they make remarkable progress. I find, too, that 
they often find opportunity to hear the Dialects ''first 
hand." 

The next symbols to be considered are vowel changes and 
elisions and substitutions in vowels and consonants. There 
are certain vowel sounds in every language identified very 
largely with that language only.^ The spelling in two 
languages may be identical, but the quality, duration, etc., 
may differ in degree. Because we can not make an in- 

*An interesting example in this connection is the Scotch Dialect. 
It is very easy to learn. There are only about two hundred words 
to remember, and another two hundred that are the same as 
English words with ^^ie" tacked on, for example: lad, laddie j 
plaid, plaidie; lass, lassie. 

But the vocabulary gets the harder as we get farther north into 
the highlands, and the change in vowels becomes very noticeable. 
This conversation took place between a buyer and seller at a fair 
in the north. ''Oo?'' *'Ay, oo.'' **Aw oo?'* ''Ay, aw oo.'' 
"Aw a 00?" ''Ay, aw a oo." 

The translation is: ''Wool?" "Yes, wool." "All wool?" 
"Yes, all wool." "All one wool?" "Yes, aU one wool." 



22 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

tensive study of the original sounds of foreign tongues, 
authors, in writing the Dialect, endeavor to spell the words 
according to the sound; but it is almost impossible of re- 
production in writing, as authors are well aware. To 
approximate it to some degree requires great understand- 
ing, taste, and skill. 

In his book of "Irish Poems" ^ Arthur Stringer writes: 

**I have again and again, in the matter of the written 
word, been coerced into something not unlike a sacrifice of 
actuality on the altar of literary convention. . . . There 
are tricks of speech so characteristic and so persistent 
that they can not be ignored. One, for instance, is the 
flattening of the dental digraph "th" into something ap- 
proaching a "d." To write it down always as a "d" is a 
somewhat clumsy artifice. . . . Still another practice is 
the lowering and " de-dentalating " of the sibilant, readily 
recognized in the ''smile" which becomes ''shmile" and 
the ''street" which must be recorded as "shtreet," though 
here again the inserted "h" is a somewhat awkward in- 
strument to denote that tenuous rustle of breath with 
which Erin wafts out its hissing consonants. . . . And 
beyond this there are many more difficulties, difficulties of 
idiom, and of mental attitude. And as an excuse for a 
newcomer's invasion of that land of brogues and accents 
and intonations, which are as elusive as quicksilver even 
while they are as penetrating as turf -smoke and as soft as 
a bog-land breeze, I can only add that it is a field in which 
there are many anomalies and no finalities." 

It must be remembered here that Dialect is accidental — a 
means, not an end. 

Dialect must suggest the dramatic spirit, and be neces- 
sary to the situation in amplifying a character or in giving 

* Arthur Stringer, ''Irish Poems,'' Foreword. 



Discussion 23 . 

a unique point of view or experience. The chief element of 
Dialect is not in the spelling of the words, but in the 
melody of the sentences. It is not a matter of individual 
words, but of the entire feeling, spirit, and thought. At 
best, Dialect can be suggested only vaguely. 

In the matter of elisions, let us look for a moment at a 
bit of Negro Dialect: 

''I'nin' up de whi' folks' close.'' 

The **ro" and the final ''g" have been dropped from the 
word "ironing" and the ''te" from "white"; "d" is 
substituted for "th" and "th" is ignored in "clothes"; 
so that, when read in the dialect form, the words of the 
sentence run together. In this case Dialect is a blending 
of sounds. No one word would stand out clear-cut from 
the others. The Negro Dialect has, perhaps, more elisions 
than any other, though some are found in the Italian, 
German, French-Canadian, etc. Dropping of the "u" 
from "you" and the "d" from "and" occurs regularly 
in the Negro Dialect. 

Substitution of vowels and consonants is very cojnmon 
in all Dialect forms. In German Dialect selections we 
continually find "I vas," the substitution of "v" for "w" 
in "was."^ In other Dialects, as well, there are the 
substitutions of "e" for "d," as "ole" for "old"; "y" 
for "j" in "just"; "u" for "a" in "and." The Chinese 

^ Of interest in this connection are some of tlie results in a recent 
research upon errors in given English sounds, made as a thesis 
study in the Department of Education in the University of Wis- 
consin. Seventeen races represented in the United States were 
tested, the smallest number in any one being twenty-five, the 
largest ninety. The voiceless ''th" was found to be the most diffi- 
cult sound for all and the sonant ' ' th " rated next in difficulty, 
while the next two in order were ''v" and ''wh." (See bibliography 
for reference.) 



24 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

constantly substitute 'T' for ''r" and "r" for '*1.'^ 
** Every" reads *'evly." So, there are numerous elisions 
and substitutions, only a few of which are mentioned here. 
This can not be an exhaustive discussion of the subject; 
the purpose is to indicate what the interpreter is to look 
for. Should such a discussion go into meticulous detail, 
the interpreter would become discouraged because of the 
great mass of material. Then, too, if the Dialect is to be 
truly assimilated, the interpreter, or teacher of interpreta- 
tion, must necessarily discover some of the facts for him- 
self. The substitutions and elisions discussed are merely 
suggestive guides in the right direction. 

The next aid is in the matter of accent and emphasis. 
This has to do first of all with the words themselves, that 
is, syllabic accent — whether or not the accent falls on the 
first, second, or third accent of a three-syllable word. 
Secondly, it deals with the stress or accentuation of special 
words in the phrases and clauses. Many times the ac-j 
centuation of another syllable than the usual one in a 
single word causes the accenting of a phrase or group of 
words to be changed. The American asks, ' * Chris'to-pher 
Co-lum'bus?" and his Italian brother answers, "Chris- 
toph' Co-lumbM" (The words have been divided here 
into syllables in order to show where the accent falls.) 
The elisions in the latter, combined with the differences in 
accentuation, produces a startlingly different result. So 
much, for the moment, for that Dialect. Let us consider 
briefly the attack the Frenchman makes upon accent. 

The Frenchman tends to articulate each syllable of a 
word very precisely and delicately, with no special accent 
upon a given syllable. The result is that he seems to 
talk faster, because he does not pause upon some syllable. 
This vitally affects the rhythm. The regularity or ir- 



Discussion 25 

regularity of accent occurrences, pause between syllables 
or words, and the prominence given certain words or word 
groups, makes for variations in rhythm. The rhythm is 
a totality of effect — and timing has much to do with it. 
Could the Dialect speech of the Italian be considered as a 
musical score, the tempo or time would be allegro, or 
''quickly." The Scandinavian would be talking in 
andante, or slowly moving, even time. Cockney Dialect 
is allegretto — faster than andante but slower than allegro. 
The Irish Dialect is now in andjante, now allegro, the latter 
predominating. We all are acquainted with the famous 
nursery rhyme ''Mary's Lamb." Let us look at it a 
moment rendered in four different Dialects — Chinese, 
German, French, and Irish: 



Was gal name Moll had lamb, 
Flea' all samee white snow; 
Evly place Moll gal walkee 
Ba-ba hoppee 'long too. 

11 

Dot Mary haf got ein leedle schaf 
Mit hair yust like some vool; 
Und all der place dot gal did vent 
Das schaf go like some fool. 

Ill 

La petite Marie had le jeune muttong, 
Ze wool was blanche as ze snow; 
And everywhere la Belle Marie went 
Le jeune muttong was zure to go. 

IV 

Begorry, Mary had a little shape, 

And the wool was white entoirely. 

An' wherever Mary wad sthir her sthumps 

The young shape would follow her completely. 



26 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Read these aloud, and listen for the rhythmic differences. 

No doubt you have often heard the comedienne on the 
vaudeville stage render "In the Shade of the Old Apple 
Tree" as the Italian, the German, and the Chinese would 
play it upon the piano. The Italian rendition was brilliant 
and marked by a certain uneven tempo. The German was 
slow and ponderous, with many crashing chords emphasiz- 
ing the guttural, low-pitched voice, with its slow rhythm. 
In contrast, the Chinese piece was played on the upper 
three octaves of the keyboard, and was very staccato and 
fast, with peculiarly jarring notes. With the pianist it 
was, again, a matter of pitch, accent, and rhythms. 

These, then, are some of the principal elements that go 
to make up a Dialect: variation in pitch range and the 
rapidity with which may occur changes in vowels, elisions 
and substitutions of vowels and consonants, and accent and 
emphasis. Together they produce melodic rhythms pe- 
culiar to each tongue, as a harmonious and unified whole. 
It is necessary to examine each phase or symbol separately 
if we would understand the Dialect; and these are means 
of understanding fundamental to any Dialect, but not ends 
in themselves. 

One of the greatest faults of rendering is due to imita- 
tion and mastery of externals, rather than primarily a 
deep understanding. Dialect must always be the result 
of assimilation. It is true that this may come through 
imitation to a degree, but it is an imitation that has as its 
basis a sympathetic and sincere understanding and appre- 
ciation. It is not parrot-like repetition. In the poetic or 
prose selections the author gives only certain words 
Dialect spelling, and these are the words that the pseudo- 
interpreter delights in stressing. The fact of the matter 
is that all of the words have a subtle difference in pro- 



Discussion 27 

minciation, whether they are spelled differently or not. 
When we hear an educated Frenchman speak, we notice 
that he has a comparatively fine mastery of the English 
language ; but at the same time there is an almost intangible 
and delightful difference about his speech, unlike our own. 
We call it accent — we might say there is a delicate aroma 
about the words. 

In Dialect this accent is stronger — more apparent. There 
is a difference about all of the words, more marked in some 
instances; and the greatest difference of all lies in the 
peculiar melodic rhythms, individual to each tongue. This 
comes, as we have seen, through modulations of the voice 
in pitch, inflections, pause, stress, quality, resonance, etc. 
These are, of course, bound up with technique when it 
comes to reproduction; but underlying all is a dramatic 
feeling for the material, which can not be a veneer, but 
must come from a deep and sympathetic appreciation and 
understanding on the part of the interpreter. The inter- 
preter, like the author, must speak in the words of the 
heart. Doctor Henry Van Dyke says: *'A character is 
but a puppet strung on wires, unless you know him for a 
man." These foreigners who speak to us in Dialect must 
be understood by the interpreter if he would make the 
right appeal to his audience and gain the best results from 
the material. To quote further from Doctor Van Dyke in 
his tales of the French-Canadian, he says, 

Take the least of all mankind, as I; 
Look at his head and heart, find how and why 
He differs from his fellows utterly. 



SECTION IV 

ADVANTAGES IN THE INTEEPRETATIVE 
USE OF DIALECT 



SECTION IV 

ADVANTAGES IN THE INTERPRETATIVE 
USE OF DIALECT 

THE student of Dialect who comes to it with an appre- 
ciation of its use and what it stands for may expect 
to benefit materially from its study. In the first place, it 
is an excellent vocal practice. No matter how lovely a 
voice may be, it can and should be improved ; for if it has 
reached perfection there is no growth, and that means loss 
of power. The mere attempts at approximating different 
pitches, melodies, and accents found in the various Dialects 
will prove very helpful merely as vocal exercises. In the 
different Dialects, the acquiring of skill in technique, which 
is based on fundamental understanding, implies that much 
may be accomplished. What the interpreter must work 
for is increase in capacity to do. 

Take some one whose voice is high-pitched and rather 
inflexible. That person can never hope to remedy the 
defect until he trains his ear to catch the difference in 
voice pitches and variations in pitch. A too abrupt attack 
upon the fault ruins any good result that may be hoped 
for; but a gradual approach through the study of Dialect 
material will aid greatly in accomplishing the desired end. 
The interpreter unconsciously studies his own voice in 
comparison, discovers his limitation, and the readjustment 
comes about easily and naturally. 

31 



32 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Increase in pitch range, and the agility acquired in 
vocal adjustment when trying Irish, Scandinavian, 
French, Scotch, and Italian Dialects in succession, help 
vocal modulation and inflectional control. Vocal quality 
may be improved through the understanding and use of 
the qualities peculiar to each Dialect. Thus the melody of 
the voice becomes enriched. More feeling, and conse- 
quently more appeal, is added. But perhaps the greatest 
benefit of all comes in the improvement of native melodic 
rhythm. 

Every one has a rhythm, again, peculiar to the indi- 
vidual, but colored by the race or nationality. For the 
person who habitually rushes through his sentences in mad 
haste, with abrupt pauses, let him try the bland Scandi- 
navian Dialect or a crooning Negro lullaby. Both are slow 
in tempo, even in rhythm. The fundamental understand- 
ing and control required to obtain desired results in ren- 
dering such selections should aid him greatly. This 
method, of course, may not cure his fault, but it will tend 
to have a slowing effect upon his habitual rhythm. It will 
increase his capacity to the extent that he will be capable 
of doing that which is diametrically opposite to what he 
has always done. Take the reverse case, that of the person 
who has a slow, even-moving rhythm. Try him out on 
French-Canadian, Italian, and Chinese dialects. It wiU 
tend to put life and verve into his work. 

These are the problems that the interpreter and teacher 
of interpretation must always meet, and there is not always 
such a workable remedy at hand. This study is not 
remedial primarily; it is helpful and cultural. We can 
not hope literally to change a thing so deeply rooted as 
melodic rhythm, but we can hope to better and improve it 
through enlarging our capacity to appreciate and use 



Discussion 33 

rhythms other than our own. Strangely, through use of 
Dialect material, the tendency toward change goes farther : 
it affects more than the vocal rhythms — it affects the entire 
bodily response. 

The interpreter can not help but feel a sympathy toward 
Dialect material. It is that sympathy which sets off, as it 
were, the whole nervous reaction. There is certainly a 
human appeal there to which he will respond in feeling. 
If he is slow in physical response ordinarily, have him do 
French and Italian. The doing — to hear his own voice — 
will tend to quicken his bodily rhythms. If he is ordi- 
narily staccato in response, contact with sad Irish or bland 
Scandinavian will tend to smooth out his reactions, making 
them a more sustained totality. This holds true again in 
acting, perhaps in a greater degree, though this is ques- 
tionable; and we must first interpret before we can act. 

At this moment there comes to mind a very recent case 
of a young woman who had staccato response and rather 
tense, jerky rhythms. She was known in amateur circles 
for acting in comedy roles. There was always the same 
quick, sure, but somewhat jerky attack. The result was 
the same — the rhythmic result as a whole — vocally and 
bodily. Her instructor knew that the pupil's power could 
never be increased until she had increased her capacity to 
use other rhythms truly. So the young woman was cast 
in an Irish Dialect play, in the character of a woman of 
some seventy years, a tragic, strongly emotional figure, in 
a situation deeply sad. The result was astonishing. Those 
who knew her best scarcely recognized the student in the 
deeply pulsing rhythms of her voice, the sustained totality 
of bodily response. And all this with ease. She had ac- 
complished what she had set out to do — completely to 
approximate an entirely different result in vocal and bodily 



34) Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

rhythms. Will such achievement have no effect upon her 
future work? 

This is by no means an isolated example. It has been 
my not infrequent experience that students whose lack of 
rhythmic response or setness of rhythm has been almost 
impossible truly to stir or affect have responded in the 
use of Dialect material in a remarkable way, and this when 
the presumable difficulties of Dialect have at first sight 
staggered them. 

Some in authority decry the use of Dialect. They de- 
clare that Dialects ruin the American language; the idea 
is to get rid of them. "What they are really decrying are 
colloquialisms, vernaculars, and native carelessness. I 
should dislike to see the use of Dialect discouraged for 
any such reason. My testimony would, indeed, all be upon 
the opposite side. I have been interested to note that 
students beginning the study of Dialects invariably take 
much more pains to pronounce and enunciate in this new 
form than they sometimes did in their own language. They 
are quick to see this somewhat humorously, when their 
attention is called to it. I find that their ears more quickly 
catch slovenliness in our speech after some little use of 
Dialects, and in not a few cases their native speech has 
been definitely improved. I am, of course, considering 
the study of groups working for expressive speech pur- 
poses, not groups of foreigners or younger pupils. There 
is little danger in the interpretative study and use of 
Dialects, for we learn to appreciate their value and sig- 
nificance, and there is little danger of falling into the 
grievous fault of their usage. Know your Dialects and 
they will increase your power. 

When the interpreter makes a careful study and use of 
Dialect material, he has at his command the most complete 



Discussion 35 

means for the development of interpreting and imperso- 
nating powers within the scope of individual expression 
and presentation. Apparently it is a form that has been 
ignored and greatly discounted, when its worth as a 
medium of training should be recognized and enhanced. 



SECTION V 

THE MONOLOGUE AND ITS 
INTEEPRETATION 



SECTION V 

THE MONOLOGUE AND ITS 
INTERPRETATION 

SINCE virtually all the selections in this book are in 
monologue form, a form especially helpful to dramatic 
students in the overcoming of mechanical tendencies in 
presentation, and offering a wide choice of material, some 
discussion of this type of material will not be amiss in 
conclusion. 

A variety of meanings are given the word ' ' monologue ' ' : 
**A speech or soliloquy spoken by a character in a story or 
play." Several of Browning's best monologues are titled 
soliloquies, as ^'Soliloquy in the Spanish Cloister." "A 
performance by one person of any one scene or selection 
from a play in which the performer assumes one or more 
characters." ''A 'variety sketch' or a confused collection 
of amusing sayings." (Vaudeville.) 

The monologue is one end of a conversation, and pre- 
supposes a listener or listeners in a definitely conceived 
dramatic situation. It reports a complete story or revela- 
tion of events, showing at its best the subjective workings 
of the character speaking, together with such reactions as 
are caused by the presence of other characters. It is 
always vivid, intense, and personal. 

There is probably no form of writing, the play not ex- 
cepted, that furnishes the interpreter so complete a medium 
of expression as the monologue. In the presentation of a 

39 



40 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

play by one person, if presented impersonatively, no matter 
how skilful or inspired the performer, the. very necessity 
of dropping and assuming the physical attitudes and 
actions of the various characters tends to lessen the vivid- 
ness of the various impersonations, and destroys, to an 
extent, the unity of the presentation. In the monologue 
all the possibilities of the play are present, and on the 
side of conception and imagination many more. The in- 
terpreter has at his command a means of revelation at once 
intense, imaginative, subtle, and interesting. Through him 
the audience sees the effect of circumstances and events 
focused upon a single character whose complete reactions 
may be revealed. They are able to catch, in half-lights as 
it were, the look and sound of other characters, and to 
gather in many instances a very definite idea of characters 
that never speak: for instance, the Duchess in ''My Last 
Duchess. ' ' 

This form of expression demands that all the skill and 
all the powers of the interpreter be brought into full play. 
It is more subjective, more intense, and more suggestive 
than the play. Its rendition is far more difficult than any 
reading or recitation, for it has to be lived and acted 
precisely as does the play. The conversation does not con- 
sist of abstractions, but takes place in a definite situation, 
and reveals the experience, past or present, of a human 
soul. It becomes, as we have said, in every case intensely 
personal. 

The elder Coquelin, who was a great monologist as well 
as great actor, once said : ' ' The more utterly the reciter is 
forgotten while he speaks, the 'better he is remembered, 
and the longer, after he is silent." The monologue offers 
this possibility of absorption, for it is the business of the 
interpreter of the monologue to focus attention entirely 



Discussion 41 

upon the character speaking and the story revealed. Kuth 
Draper, so skilled an interpreter in this particular type 
of presentation, furnishes a striking example of how com- 
pletely and artistically this end may be achieved. 

Speaking of the rendering of monologues, we have as 
great a variety in the manner of presentation in this form 
of writing alone, I think, as in all the other forms put to- 
gether. We have presenting in costume and out, with some 
''properties" and with none, with ''settings" and without. 
"We have monologues varying all the way from the noble 
and inspired utterances of some of Browning's finest 
poems, together with his intensely emotional and dramatic 
selections, on through all shades and kinds of emotion to 
the wildest burlesque, and revelations of idiosyncrasy, 
weakness, or inane situation. Apparently writers find it 
a convenient form of expression, and certainly there should 
be a wide choice for public presentation. 

In general, the reader is apt to err upon the side of too 
much "show." The presentation becomes stagy, declama- 
tory, theatrical, and spectacular. The inclusion of "prop- 
erties," often unwisely considered, mars the unity of the 
performance. Dr. Curry says of this: "The use of prop- 
erties should be governed by the laws of significance, 
centrality, and consistency." Since properties are sure to 
appeal to the eye, it is evident that extreme care should 
be taken in their introduction. Dr. Curry says further: 
"Whenever any article of dress is a necessary part of the 
character and has an inherent relation to the story or the 
thought, when it becomes an essential part of the expres- 
sion, then it may properly be employed. ' ' 

In all monologues points concerning the "speaker," the 
"hearer," the "place," and the "situation" should be 
carefully considered. Should the scene be "on stage" in 



42 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

part or completely ? Does the audience become the ' ' hearer ' * 
in some instances? Should the ''speaker" in a monologue 
ever address the audience directly, and if so when? Are 
some monologues much more capable of full impersonation 
than others, and are there not many selections that might 
not be usually thought of as monologues which would bene- 
fit in interpretation by being so considered? Certainly 
many of Browning's ''lyrics" gain in significance and are 
much more easily understood if so considered. These and 
other questions should be answered by a careful analysis 
of the material of each selection. Such clarification would 
tend in every instance to add to the student's knowledge 
and develop his powers for interpretation in the monologue 
form. 

The selections in this book, then, being so largely mono- 
logues, should be studied in the light of the suggestions 
here given. Being Dialect as well as monologue, they have, 
I believe, an even greater value for the developmental 
practice of every student in expression. 



PART II 
MATERIAL FOR INTERPRETATION 

SECTION VI 
SCOTCH 



/ 



SECTION VI 
SCOTCH 

(See also ** Modern Literature for Oral Interpretation/' 
Johnson, page 264, prose.) 

SHE LIKED HIM EALE WELL 

The Spring had brought out the green leaf on the trees, 

An' the flowers were unfolding their sweets tae the bees, 

When Jock says tae Jenny, *'Come, Jenny, agree, 

An ' say the bit word that ye '11 marry me. ' ' 

She held doon her heid like a lily sae meek. 

An' the blush o' the rose flew awa' frae her cheek. 

But she said, ' ' Gang awa ', man ! 

Your heid's in a creel." 
She didna let on that she liked him rale weel — 

Oh ! she liked him rale weel — 

Aye, she liked him rale weel ! 
i But she didna let on that she liked him rale weel. 

Then Jock says, *'0h, Jenny, for a twalmonth an' mair, 
Ye ha'e kept me just hangin' 'twixt hope an' despair. 
But, oh ! Jenny, last night something whispered tae me 
That I'd better lie doon at the dyke-side an' dee." 
Tae keep Jock in life, she gave in tae be tied ; 
An ' soon they were booked, an ' three times they were cried. 

45 



46 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Love danced in Jock's heart, an' hope joined the reel — 
He was sure that his Jenny did like him rale weel — 

Oh ! she liked him rale weel ! 

Aye, she liked him rale weel ! 
But she never let on that she liked him rale weel. 

When the wedding day cam', tae the manse they did stap, 
An' there they got welcome frae Mr. Dunlap, 
Wha chained them to love's matrimonial stake, 
Syne they took a dram an' a mouthfu' o' cake. 
Then the minister said, ' ^ Jock, be kind tae your Jenny, 
Nae langer she 's tied to the string o ' her minnie ; 
Noo, Jenny, will ye aye be couthie an' leal?" 
*'Yes, sir; oh, yes, for I like him rale weel!" 

Aye, she liked him rale weel ! 

Oh! she liked him rale weel! 
At last she owned up that she liked him rale weel ! 

Andrew Wauless 

THE TWA WEELUMS 

I 'm Sairgint Weelum Henderson frae Pairth, 

That 's wha I am ! 

There's just ae regimint in a' the airth 

That's worth a damn; 

An' gin the bonniest fechter o' the lot 

Ye seek to see. 

Him that's the best — whaur ilka man's a Scot — 

Speir you at me! 

Gin there's a hash o' Gairmans pitten cot 
By aichts an' tens, 

That Wully Henderson's been thereaboot 
A 'body kens; 



Material for Interpretation 47 

Fegs-aye! Yon Weelum that's in Gairmanie, 
He hadna' reckoned 

Wi' Sairgint Weelum Henderson an' wi' 
The Forty-Second! 

Yon day we lichtit on the shores o' France, 

The lassies standin' 

Trod ilk on ither's taes to get the chance 

To see nslandin'. 

The besoms ! O they smiled to me — an' yet 

They conldna' help it. 

(Mysel'j I just was thinkin' hoo we'd get 

They Gairmans skelpit.) 

I'm wearied wi' them for it's aye the same 

Whaure'er we gang, 

Our Captain thinks we've got his een to blame, 

But man ! he 's wrang ! 

I winna say he's no as smairt a lad 

As ye micht see 

Atween twa Sawbiths — aye, he's no sae bad, 

But he 's no me ! 

Weel, let the limmers bide ; their bonnie lips 

Are fine an' reid, 

But me an' Weelum's got to get to grips 

Afore we're deid, 

An' gin he thinks he hasna' met his match 

He'll sune be wiser — 

Here's to myself ! Here's to the auld Black Watch ! 

An' damn the Kaiser! 

Violet Jacob, 



48 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

THE BANKS 0' DOON 

Ye banks and braes o' bonie Doon, 

How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair ! 
How can ye chant, ye little birds, 

And I sae weary fu' o' care! 
Thou 'It break my heart, thou warbling bird, 

That wantons thro ' the flowering thorn : 
Thou minds me o' departed joys. 

Departed — never to return. 

Thou 'It break my heart, thou bonie bird. 

That sings beside thy mate, 
For sae I sat, and sae I sang. 

And wist na o' my fate. 
Aft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon, 

To see the rose and woodbine twine; 
And ilka bird sang o' its luve, 

And fondly sae did I o ' mine. 

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, 

Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree; 
And my fause luver stole my rose. 

But ah ! he left the thorn wi ' me. 
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose 

Upon a morn in June; 
And sae I flourish 'd on the morn, 

And sae was pu'd on noon. 

Bdhert Burn$. ^ ■ 



Material for Interpretation 49 

''THE WIFE HE WANTS'' 

I liae a wee thocht in my held, 

A wee tlioclit, naethin' mair, 

That 'gin I saw a lass I lik'd, 

I micht think weel to pair. 

I want nae wife to spoil my life, 

Hoo rich soe'er she be, 

Sae what I like, and what dislike, 

It's juist as well to see. 

I want nae lang-legg'd hizzy here 

My wee bit hoose to share. 

Wha wants twa yairds or mair o' wife?l 

It isn't me, I'll swear. 

She micht forget to duck her heid, 

The ceilin's rather low; 

I winna hae the plaster crack 'd 

A' candidates should know. 

I winna mairry by the ton, 

And, therefore, want to say, 

I '11 hae nae big fat sowdy lass 

Trapesin' roon' this way. 

The furniture's a wee bit auld, 

I'm no sure o' the stairs. 

A wechty woman's gey severe, 

Especially on chairs. "I 

But tho' I dinna want her fat 
j^ She maunna be too lean; 
p' There's little comfort wi* a wife 
That, sideways, can 't be seen. 



50 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

I want nae hippopotamus 
But still she must be roon', 
Banes rattlin' when she mov'd aboot 
Wad hae an eerie soon'. 

She maunna hae big feet the lass 

That wants wi' me to wed^ 

I'll hae nae bettlin '-engines here 

To fill my life wi' dread. 

Besides, I hae improv'd the roads 

Aboot this bit o' fairm, 

And muckled poondin' o' them noo 

Wad do a dale o' hairm. 

For reasons I will here expleen 

I canna hae rid hair — 

My hairt is no ' the strangest pairt 

The doctors a' declare. 

If I cam' hame too sudden like 

And saw my wife's rid heid, 

I might suspeck the hoose afire 

And faint awa' clane deid. 

That I command, that she obeys, 

The lassie maun concede. 

I hand wi' Paul in this remark, 

*'The husband is the heid." 

It's ae thing that I winna stan', 

A want o ' due respeck ; 

To ony lass that wants to rule 

I sartinly objeck. 

And yet I'm no the man to fuss 
For pure objecktin's sake, 



I 



Material for Interpretation 51 

I ken that in this mortal life 

We hae to give and take. 

And gin the lassie's wise and guid 

And dacent as to rank, 

I'll no objeck that she should hae 

A pickle in the bank. 

John Stevenson. 



THE TWA COURTIN'S 

Behold twa anld wives seated at the fireside drinking 
the blackest of tea, the old brown teapot at the fire, 
blackened with use and broken at the stroup. 

^'Eh, woman, but that's grand tea — it sticks to the roof 
o ' yer moo ! Nane o ' yer new-fangled German silver tea- 
pots for me; ye dinna get the gnid o' the tea unless it 
stands half an hour at the fire." 

There they sit, crackling ower their young days, the one 
nervous, thin, black-eyed — poetic; the other squat and 
stout, practised, matter-of-fact — prosaic. But they both 
enjoy a gossip, and kickle ower the stories o' their courtin', 
the recollection of which seems even sweeter than the 
reality. 

' ' Eh, but thae were grand days, thae young days ! Well 
dae I mind — dear me, this is the very nicht forty years 
sin that oor John socht me for his wife. I '11 tell ye the 
whole story — if ye '11 promise to tell me what your man 
said to you when he socht you; but ye mauna repeat it, 
mind ye, to ony other body. 

''John and me had gane thegither for five year. It's a 
lang time, and I began to weary on John — a woman 
doesna like to hing on ower lang, ye ken — I was beginnin' 



52 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

to be feared that if he didna speak soon he widna 
speak ava. 

*' Tuesday nichts and Friday nichts were John's niehts, 
so John and me were rale sib. Weel, ye ken my faither's 
hoose stood in the middle o ' a garden, and when John cam 
to see me he gae three raps on the window. Some chiels 
gae twa raps and some four raps and a whistle, but oor 
John, ye ken, just gae three raps. Weel, this nicht we 
were a-sittin ' at the fireside, three raps cam to the window, 
and my heart gae a dunt, for I kenned it was him. But I 
never let on, ye ken. By and by I laid doon the stockin* 
I was darnin' and slipit oot quietly, and says I, 'Is that 
you, John?' and oot o' the dark a deep voice says, 'Ay, 
it's me, Janet.' Then I heard a motion among the bushes, 
and it cam' nearer and nearer till John was at my side, 
and eh! sic a wark he made wi' me!" 

"Eh, woman, look at that de'il o' a laddie glowerin' at 
ye and takin' a' ye say." 

' ' Hoots, awa ', woman ! the laddie 's ower young to under- 
stand oor clavers. Here's a piece an' treacle tae ye, 
Davie. That'll shut his mouth and his lugs baith. 

"Weel, awa doon the brae we gaed thegither. 'It's a 
fine nicht,' says I. 'Grand weather for the craps,' says 
John ; but no anither word did he speak. John was never 
a great hand at sayin' muckle, and this nicht he was waur 
than ever. So doon the brae we gaed, and I fand John's 
arm slippin' round my waist. By and by I made believe 
to miss my foot, ye ken, and that gar'd John baud me 
tighter. I'm tellin' ye the whole truth, altho' I think 
black burnin' shame. Folks thinks that it's the lads that 
coorts the lasses. It's naethin' o' the kind. It's the lasses 
that coorts the lads, for I'm sure if I hadna gi'en John 
a hand, he never hae gotten on ava. 



I 



Material for Interpretation 53 

**Eat awa' at yer piece and treacle, laddie, and dinna ye 
glower at me like that. 

'*Weel, at the foot o' the brae we sat aneath a bus', 
whaur there waur just room for John and me, and its 
bonnie branches hid us frae every mortal e'e. Even the 
impertinent man in the moon, that sees sae mony things 
he shouldna see, couldna see in on us that nicht. There 
we sat a lang time, and John as usual said naething, but 
a' this time his arm was roond my waist, and at last it 
began to shake, and he said, 'Janet,' and thinks I to mysel', 
'I've catched John at last'; but something stuck in his 
throat, for he said nae mair. And there we sat and sat 
an' better sat an' eh ! we were sae happy ! ' Surely,' thinks 
I, ' this is heaven upon earth. ' But all of a sudden John 
astonished me, for a better behaved young man never lived, 
he took a hand o' my head and he pressed it till his bosom 
and I fand his heart knock, k-nock, k-nockin' against my 
lug, and says he to me, says he: 'Janet, Janet, w-w-will 
ye, will ye marry me ? ' Eh, woman, wasna I richt glad to 
hear that ! But a lassie canna expect to hear that very often 
in her life, so she maunna be in a hurry to answer. The 
tears were rinnin' doon my cheeks, John's arm was roond 
my waist, and my head was on John's bosom, and his 
heart was knockin' waur than ever. But I didna wait 
ower lang, for fear I should lose him a'th'gither; so says I 
to him, says I: 'Jo-o-hn yes,' and wi' that oor John 
gaed clean daft a'th'gither, and he fairly worried me up 
wi' kisses." 

*'Hoot awa', woman," said the prosaic wife, **sic on- 
gaeins! My man and me were na' sic fools. When my 
man cam' to see me, he cam' into the hoose like ony 
decent man — ^to be sure there was nane but him and me 
in the hoose at the time — and he sits doon in my faither's 



54 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

chair, puts one leg ower the tither, and toasts his taes 
at the fire. 'Ony news?' says I. 'Ou! ay,' says he; 'I've 
ta 'en a hoose. ' ' Ta 'en a hoose, ' says I. ' Ay ! ta 'en a hoose, 
and furnishin^ a hoose.' 'Losh be here,' quo I, 'ta'en a 
hoose and furnishin' a hoose! wha are ye furnishin' the 
hoose for?' 'I'm furnishin' the hoose for you.' 'Oh, if 
that be the way o't, it wad be a great pity to lose the 
guid furnitur'." 

David Kennedy. 

MY AIN FIRESIDE 

0, I hae seen great anes and sat in great ha's, 
'Mang lords and 'mang ladies a' cover 'd wi' braws; 
But a sight sae delightful I trow I ne'er spied 
As the bonnie blythe blink o' my ain fireside, 
My ain fireside, my ain fireside, 
0, sweet is the blink o' my ain fireside. 

Ance mair, heaven be praised! round my ain heartsome 
ingle, 

Wi' the frien's o' my youth I cordially mingle; 

Nae forms to compel me to seem wae or glad, 

I may laugh when I 'm merry and sigh when I 'm sad. 
My ain fireside, my ain fireside, 
0, sweet is the blink o' my ain fireside. 

Nae falsehood to dread, nae malice to fear, 

But truth to delight me, and friendship to cheer 

O' a' roads to happiness ever were tried. 

There's nane half so sure as ane's ain fireside, 
My ain fireside, my ain fireside, 
0, sweet is the blink o' my ain fireside. 

William H. Hamilton. 



Material for Interpretation 55 



WHY NO SCOTCHMEN GO TO HEAVEN 

Long years ago, in times so remote that history does not 
fix the epoch, a dreadful war was waged by the king of 
Scotland. Scottish valor prevailed; and the king of Scot- 
land, elated by success, sent for his prime minister. 

*'Weel, Sandy," said he, ''is there ne'er a king we 
canna conquer noo?" 

*'An' it please your majesty, I ken a king that your 
majesty canna vanquish." 

*'An' who is he, Sandy?" 

The prime minister, reverently looking up, said, **The 
King o' heaven." 

"The king of whaur, Sandy?" 

*'The King o' heaven." 

The Scottish king did not understand, but was unwill- 
ing to exhibit any ignorance. 

"Just gang your ways, Sandy, and tell King o' heaven 
to gi'e up his dominions, or I'll come mysel' and ding 
him oot o' them; and mind you, Sandy, you dinna come 
back to us until ye ha'e dune oor biddin'." 

The prime minister retired much perplexed, and 
met a priest, and reassured, returned and presented him- 
self. 

"Weel, Sandy," said the king, "ha'e ye seen the King 
o' heaven? and what says he to our biddin'?" 

"An it please your majesty, I ha'e seen one of his ac- 
credited ministers." 

* ' Weel, and what says he ? " 

"He says your majesty may e'en ha'e his kingdom for 
the axin' o' it." 

* ' Was he sae civil ? ' ' asked the king warming to magna- 



56 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

nimity. ''Just gang your ways back, Sandy, an' tell the, 
Eang o' heaven that for his civility the de'il a Scotchman 
shall set foot in his kingdom. ' ' 



''DID YOU EVER r' 

Did you ever see the sun 
"When his day's wark's nearly done, 
Wi' his hand stuck in his pocket 
And his heid to one side cockit, 
Smilin' beams of golden light? 
While he's waitin' for the night? 

Did you ever see the sea 
Take it easy-like, a wee, 
!Wi' the gulls aboon her cryin', 
And she at fu' length lyin' 
On her bed o' broon seaweed 
Wi' her hands beneath her heid? 

Did you ever see the moon 
On a winter afternoon 
Mak' a lookin '-glass o' water; 
See the mirror quickly shatter 
As it lay before your sight 
Into bits o' silver light? 

Did you ever hear the trees 

Talk in whispers to the breeze 

0' the Spring and Summer glories; 

Laughin' at the funny stories, 

That sae cunnin'ly he weaves, 

Till their laughter shakes the leaves? 



Material for Interpretation 57 

Did you ever see the stars 

Ridin' roon' the sky on cars 

Made o' clouds and mists and vapours, 

Winkin', shootin', cuttin' capers, 

Playin' hide-and-seek, bo-peep, 

When the moon is fast asleep? 

Never saw sic things, ye said, 

"Why, wherever were ye bred, 

Bootless in some toonship smoky 

Whaur the air is thick and choky, 

"Whaur they hae nae sun nor moon. 

Nor a breeze to play a tune. 

Or to tell a funny story; 

"Whaur the water's mirror 'd glory, 

Sleepin' sea and starry blue. 

Are for ever hid frae view. 

Och, I petty ye — I do. 



John Stevenson. 



MY AIN WIFE 



KEN ye no' my ain wife, 

Sae cheery, young, an' free; 
saw ye ne'er my ain wife, 

She's mair than gowd to me; 
Sae bonny, thrifty, neat and kind, 

Sae fu' o' sense and glee; 
wha kens no my ain wife, 
Kens no ' what wives should be ! 

Sae patient, loving, blithe, an' true, 

At least she's sae to me! 
0, I wadna gie my ain wife 
For ony wife I see! 



58 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Our hame, it is a cosy hame, 

Our garden is na' sma'; 
My wife amang her blossoms blooms 

The sweetest of them a'; 
The rose an^ lily on her cheeks 

Are mingled baith sae fair, 
I often think the blushing things 
Hae found their beauty there : 

She 's mair sweet than the sweetest flower, 

At least she's sae to me! 
0, I wadna gie my ain wife 
For ony wife I see! 

The mavis on the sycamore, 

The lintie on the spray, 
The laverock quivering up the sky, 

Sing sweet at break o ' day. 
ilka bird that ever sang, 
On tree or joyous wing. 
Wad cease its sweetest happy strain 
To hear my wifie sing ! 

Sae fu' o' feeling is her voice, 

At least it's sae to me; 
0, I wadna gie my ain wife 
For ony wife I see! 

Francis Beniioch. 

HIGHLAND MARY 

Ye bauKS, and braes, and streams around 

The castle o' Montgomery, 
Green be your woods, and fair your flowers. 

Your waters never drumlie! 



Material for Interpretation 59 

There simmer first nnfauld her robes, 

And there the langest tarry! 
For there I took the last f areweel 

0' my sweet Highland Mary. 

How sweetly bloom 'd the gay green birk, 

How rich the hawthorn's blossom! 
As underneath their fragrant shade, 

I clasp 'd her to my bosom ! 
The golden hours, on angel wings. 

Flew 'er me and my dearie ; 
For dear to me as light and life, 

Was my sweet Highland Mary. 

Wi' mony a vow, and lock'd embrace, 

Our parting was fu' tender; 
And, pledging aft to meet again, 

We tore oursels asunder; 
But Oh ! fell death 's untimely frost, 

That nipt my flower sae early ! 
Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay, 

That wraps my Highland Mary! 

O pale, pale now those rosy lips 

I aft hae kiss'd sae fondly! 
And closed for aye the sparkling glance, 

That dwelt on me sae kindly ! 
And mouldering now in silent dust, 

That heart that lo 'ed me dearly ! 
But still within my bosom's core. 

Shall live my Highland Mary. 

Bohert Burns, 



60 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

CUDDLE DOON 

The bairnies cuddle doon at nicht 

Wi' muckle faucht an' din, 
*'0h, try and sleep, ye waukrife rogues; 

Your father's comin' in." 
They never heed a word I speak, 

I try to gie a f roon ; 
But aye I hap them up an' cry 

**0h, bairnies, cuddle doon I" 

Wee Jamie wi' the curly heid — 

He aye sleeps next the wa' — 
Bangs up an' cries, "I want a piece'' — 

The rascal starts them a'. 
I rin an' fetch them pieces, drinks — 

Then stop awee the soun' — 
Then draw the blankets up, and cry, 

**Noo, weanies, cuddle doon!'* 

But ere five minutes gang, wee Rab 

Cries out frae 'neath the claes, 
**Mither, mak' Tam gie ower at ance; 

He's kittlin' wi his taes." 
The mischief's in that Tam for tricks: 

He'd bother half the toon, 
But aye I hap them up and cry, 

*'0h, bairnies, cuddle doon!" 

At length they hear their father's fit; 

An' as he steeks the door, 
They turn their faces to the wa', 

While Tam pretends to snore. 



Material for Interpretation 61 

*'Hae a' the weans been gndeV he asks, 

As he pits off his shoon. 
''The bairnies, John, are in their beds, 

An' lang since cuddled doon." 

An' jnst afore we bed oorsels, 

We look at oor wee lambs. 
Tarn has his airm roun' wee Rab's neck, 

And Rab his airm roun' Tam's. 
I lift wee Jamie up the bed, 

An' as I straik each croon, 
I whisper till my heart fills up, 

''Oh, bairnies, cuddle doon!" 

The bairnies cuddle doon at nicht 

Wi' mirth that's dear to me ; 
But soon the big warl's cark an' care 

Will quaten doon their glee. 
Yet come what will to ilka ane, 

May He who sits aboon 
Aye whisper, though their pows be bauld, 

"Oh, bairnies, cuddle doon!" 

Alexander Anderson. 



A SCOTCH WOOING 

^* (A story is told of a Scotchman who, loving a lassie, desired her 
for his wife. But he possessed the prudence of his race. He had 
noticed in his own circle many an otherwise promising union result 
in disappointment and dismay, purely in consequence of the false 
estimate formed by bride or bridegroom concerning the imagined 
perfections of the other. He determined that in his own case no 
collapsed ideal should be possible. Therefore it was that the follow- 
ing proposal took place.) 



62 Dialects for Oral Interpretation I 

' ' I 'm but a puir lad, Jennie ; I hae nae siller to offer ye, 
and nae land." 

'*Ah, but ye hae yoursel', Davie!" 

**An' I'm wishfu' it wa' onything else, lassie. I'm nae 
Uiit a puir ill-seasoned loon, Jennie." 

' ' Na, na ; there 's money a lad mair ill-looking than 
yersel', Davie." 

'*! hae na seen him, lass, and I'm just a-thinkin' I 
shouldna' care to." 

*' Better a plain man, Davie, that ye can depend on than 
ane that would be a-speirin' at the lassies, a-bringin' 
trouble into the hame wi' his flouting ways." 

''Dinna ye reckon on that, Jennie; it's nae the bonniest 
Bubbly-Jock that maks the most feathers to fly in the 
kailyard. I was ever a lad to run after the petticoats, as 
is weel kent; an' it's a weary handfu' I'll be to ye, I'm 
thinkin'." 

"Ah, but ye hae a kind heart, Davie! an' ye love me 
weel. I'm sure on't." 

**I like ye weel enoo', Jennie, though I canna say how 
long the feeling may abide wi' me; an' I'm kind enoo' 
when I hae my ain way, an naethin' happens to put me 
cot. But I hae the deevil's ain temper, as my mither can 
teU ye, an', like my puir fayther, I'm a-thinkin' I'll grow 
nae better as I grow mair auld." 

**Ay, but ye 're sair hard upon yersel', Davie. Ye 're an 
honest lad. I ken ye better than ye ken yersel', an' ye '11 
mak a guid hame for me." 

** Maybe, Jennie ! But I hae my doots. It's a sair thing 
for wife and bairns when the guid man canna keep awa' 
frae the glass; an' when the scent of the whusky comes 
to me it's just as though I hae'd the throat o' a Loch Tay 
salmon; it just gaes doon an' doon, an' ther's nae filling 



Material for Interpretation 63 

'*Ay, but ye 're a guid ijian when ye 're sober, Davie." 
*' Maybe I'll be that, Jennie, if I'm nae disturbed." 
**An ye '11 bide wi' me, Davie, an' work for me?" 
'*! see nae reason why I sbouldna bide wi' ye, Jennie; 
but dinna ye clack aboot work to me, for I just canna bear 
the thoct o't." 

*' Anyhow, ye '11 do your best, Davie? As the minister 
says, nae man can do mair than that." 

''An' it's a puir best that mine '11 be, Jennie, and I'm 
nae sae sure ye '11 hae ower muckle even o' that. We're a' 
weak, sinfu' creatures, Jennie, an' ye'd hae some deeffi- 
culty to fin' a man weaker or mair sinfu' than mysel'." 

''Weel, weel, ye hae a truthfu' tongue, Davie. Mony a 
lad will mak fine promises to a puir lassie, only to break 
'em an' heart wi' 'em. Ye speak me fair, Davie, and I'm 
thinkin' I'll just tak ye, an' see what comes o't." 

Jerome K. Jerome. 
(From ^^ Three Men on the BummeU') 

AULD DADDY DARKNESS 

AuLD Daddy Darkness creeps frae his hole, 
Black as a blackamoor, blin' as a mole; 
Stir the fire till it lowes, let the bairnie sit, 
Auld Daddy Darkness is no wantit yet. 

See him in the corners hidin' frae the licht, 
See him at the window gloomin ' at the nicht ; 
Turn up the gas licht, close the shutters a', 
An' Auld Daddy Darkness will flee far awa'. 

Awa' to hide the birdie within its cosy nest, 
Awa' to lap the wee flockers on their mither's breast, 
Awa' to loosen Gaffer Toil frae his daily ca', 
For Auld Daddy Darkness is kindly to a'. 



64) Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

He comes when we're weary to wean's frae oor waes. 
He comes when the bairnies are getting aff their claes ; 
To cover them sae cosy, an' bring bonnie dreams, 
So Auld Daddy Darkness is better than he seems. 

Steek yer een, my wee tot, ye '11 see Daddy then ; 
He's in below the bed claes, to cuddle ye he's fain ; 
Noo nestle in his bosie, sleep and dream yer fill, 
Till Wee Davie Daylicht comes keekin, owre the hill. 

James Ferguson, 



LAST MAY A BRAW WOOER 

Last May a braw wooer cam down the lang glen, 
And sair wi' his love he did deave me; 

I said there was naething I hated like men, 
The deuce gae wi'm, to believe me, believe me, 
The deuce gae wi'm, to believe me! 

He spak o' the darts in my bonnie black een, 
And vow'd for my love he was deein'; 

I said he might dee when he liked, for Jean, 
The Lord forgive me for leein', for leein^, 
The Lord forgive me for leein ' ! 

A weel-stocked mailen, — ^himsel' for the laird, — 
And marriage aff-hand, were his proffer; 

I never loot on that I kenn'd it, or car'd. 

But thought I might hae waur offers, waur offers, 
But thought I might hae waur offers. 

But what wad ye think? in a fortnight or less, — 
The deil tak his taste to gae near her ! 



Material for Interpretation 65 

He up the lang loan to my black cousin Bess, 
Guess ye how, the jad! I could bear her, could bear her, 
Guess ye how, the jad ! I could bear her. 

But a* the neist week as I petted wi' care, 

I gaed to the tryst o' Dalgarnock, 
And wha but my fine fickle lover was there! 

I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock, a warlock, 

I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock. 

But owre my left shoulther I ga'e him a blink, 

Lest neebors might say I was saucy; 
My wooer he caper 'd as he'd been in drink, 

And vow'd I was his dear lassie, dear lassie. 

And vow'd I was his dear lassie. 

I spier 'd for my cousin fu' couthy and sweet. 

Gin she had recover 'd her hearin', 
And how her new shoon fit her auld shachl'd feet, 

But, heavens ! how he fell a swearin', a swearin', 

But, heavens ! how he f eU a swearin ' ! 

He begged, for gudesake ! I wad be his wife. 

Or else I wad kill him wi' sorrows: 
So e'en to preserve the poor body in life, 

I think I maun wed him to-morrow, to-morrow, 

I think I maun wed him to-morrow. 

Robert Burns. 

THE ARTIST 

His claes were thin and shabby when first he reached this 

pairt, 
Wi' box o' pents and brushes and a big sowl fu' o' Airt. 



66 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

His purse was tMii and hungry wi ' a leanness sair to see ; 
Its twa sides clapp 'd thegither just as lean as lean could be. 

He pented land and seascapes, and he didna pent them ill. 
And tuk leeberties wi' Nature for to mak' them finer stilL 

He pented a' his simmer skies a double extra blue, 
Nae Antrim sky since Adam leev'd had ever sic a hue. 

He acted very leeberal to mountains as to height, 

And gied them a' a thousan' feet aboon their size by right. 

And whaur the coast had naethin' hard to meet the billows' 

shocks, 
He thocht it only fair to paint a wheen o' craggy rocks. 

A lak or twa he would insart to change the country's 

face. 
And trees in twas and threes and groves he dabb'd a' 

ow'r the place. 

He even in his picters wad the times and saisons change, 
Had new-born lambs at harvest time — a thing we thocht 
was strange. 

"Imagination, aye," he said, ''should guide the penter's 
hand," 

And that, of course, explain 'd the things we didna under- 
stand. 

He wark'd wi' mortial industry and few divarteesements. 
The wal was hard put to to find the water for his pents. 

And, week by week, he bundled aff to London picter men 
His landscapes and his seascapes and his studies o ' the glen. 



Material for Interpretation 67 

But still the puir wee purse was lean, its twa sides did 

adhere, 
Its stomach hadna sheltered goold for nigh upon a year. 

In sheer despair anither sketch, his biggest yet, he tried, — 
A sheet o' three feet lang or mair and maybe twa feet 
wide — 

A masterpiece it was to be o^ airtist's brain and hand. 
He show 'd the distant Scottish shore and miles o ' sea and 
land. 

He put in a' that for these pairts Dame Nature had decreed, 
And things she hadna thocht o' he invented frae his heid. 

He made a reef o' wicked rocks rin right acrass the bay, 
He used his verra deepest blue to reprisint the say. 

Behind big Billy Shepherd's hoose he made a mountain be 
And planted his bog-medda wi' a cur'ous kind of tree. 

He shifted objects till he found their maist effective spot. 
And in the foremost foregrun plac'd auld Peggy Martin's 
cot. 

Auld Peggy was a widdy wife wi temper and a tongue 
That talk'd three husbands to their graves while yet a 
woman young. 

Her hoose was puir and Airt is Airt, but still I must admit 
He took ow'r mony leeberties the day he pented it. 

He made the wa's a' tumble-doon and slimy green and foul, 
And took the chimney aff the hoose to plase his artist sowl. 



68 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

It wadna weel agree wi' that to hae it waterproof, 
Sae holes in great variety he dotted owV the roof. 

The windy s a' were stuffed wi' rags to make them 

harmoneeze, 
And just inside the kitchen daur a braw pig stood at ease. 

The midden that behind the byre was found in Peggy's 

case, 
He pented right f orninst the door in a convanient place. 

The picter finished to his taste the puir consaited wretch 
Invited Peg, then passin' near, come and see the sketch. 

She cam' wi' smiles, her can o' suds she sat doon by the way 
And apron- wip'd her airms a bit, for it was washin' day. 

She look'd, she grunted, grunted mair — the smilin' face 

was gone; 
It didna need a seer to see a storm was comin' on. 

**And wha's pig-stye is that?" quo' she, *'wha's pig-stye 

may it be. 
Is that my hoose? noo answer that, just answer straight 

to me." 

He tried to soothe the angry wife, and show'd that trate- 

ment free 
0' subjeck was the artist's right, as plain as plain could be. 

''Deil tak' ye and yer subjeck and the treatment ye ca' 

free, 
It's the tratement o' the widdy that I'm thinkin' o'," 

quo' she. 



Material for Interpretation 69 

"^ * I 've slaved till I can hardly stand on my twa blissid feet 
To hae the place look dacent-like in that there pented sheet. 

**I whitewas'd a' the wa's myser, I did them yesterday 
I wesh'd tha windys weel wi' soap and swep' the yerd o' 
strae. 

**And that's my thanks, my gintleman, and that's the way 

ye trate 
A puir lone widdy that has got to arn her bit o' mate. 

**Ye winna hae the pleasure, tho', to send abroad yer 

cheat, ' ' 
Wi' that she dash'd her dirty suds right ow'er the pented 

sheet. 

*'Ye ca' it wather-colour wark, I ca' it thrash instead, 
But wather-colour it will be in arnest noo," she said. 

Then aff she stepp'd, her angry voice still growlin' oot 

her ills. 
Like thunder sweerin' to itsel' awa' amang the hills. 

The puir wee penter man sat doon and cudna help but weep 
While f rae the sheet the dirty suds went dhreepin ' dhreep- 
a-dhreep. 

And yin side o ' the hungry purse said to the ither then, 
**It's plain to me there'll naethin' come 'twixt you and 
me again." 

The penter 's een still weepin' sair fell on his pictur wet, 
He thocht it didna look sae bad and might be savit yet. 



70 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

The suds that wesh'd some pent awa' had blended what 

remained 
To gie result the penter's skill could never hae attained. 

The pictur, then, wi' doots and fears its journey did 

perform 
To London toon, and lo, behold, it took the place by storm. 

It fairly took the breath awa' frae the suparior pow'rs, 
And big folk cam' in carriages to look at it for hours. 

*'Hoo beautiful! hoo eggswhiskit ! " the leddies a' ex- 
claimed, 

And thro' their spy-glesses obsarv'd what penter hadn't 
dhramed. 

"Sic pearly greys!" the critics said, "sic atmosphere! sic 

tone ! 
It's shair the finest piece o' wark the century has shown." 

The pictur papers a' prodooced the penter's photograph, 
And a' the lam'd societies elected him straight aff. 

The king that rules these kingdoms three and nane may 

disobey 
Commanded him, on penalty, to dine wi ' him next day. 

The puir wee purse sae hungry yince, wi ' clingin ' sides sae 

lean. 
Is noo about the fattest purse that ever met yer een. 

And noo the penter drives his coach and gangs in stylish 

duds 
(He doesn't tell the people, tho, o' Peggy and the suds). 

John Stevenson. 



Material for Interpretation 71 



WHEN MITHEE'S GANE 

It mak's a change in a 'thing roon* 

When mither's gane. 

The cat has less contented croon, 

The kettle has a dowie tune, 

There's naething has sae blythe a soon, 

Sin' mither's gane. 

The bairnies gang wi' ragged claes, 
Sin' mither's gane. 

There's nane to mend their broken taes, 
Or laugh at a' their pawky ways, 
The nichts are langer than the days, 
When mither's gane. 

Wha' cheers them when there's ocht amiss, 

Sin' mither's gane? 

Wha' tak's their pairt in that or this. 

An' oot o' trouble mak's a bliss, 

Wi' kindly word an' guid-nicht kiss? 

Dear mither's gane. 

The father's there; but losh! puir man, • 

Sin' mither's gane, 

Although he does the best he can. 

He hasna sic a tender han' — 

The bottom's oot o' nature's plan, 

When mither's gane. 

O lonely hoose, O empty chair— 
The mither's gane. 



72 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Yet fancy aften sees her there, 
Wi' a' the smiles she used to wear, 
"Whilk brings oor hearts maist to despair 
To think she's gane. 

Anonymcms, 

COOM, LASSIE, BE GOOD TO ME 

CooM, Lassie, be good to me. Winna ye, dear? 
YeVe taken a' my hairt, ye shall hae a' my gear; 
I wadna be gangin' aboot all alane 
If the warld were a' siller, an' you not my ain. 

The birds are a ' matin ', the flowers wed the grass, 
An' you are my springtime, my ain bonnie lass; 
Like kiss o' the sun to the lif e-springin ' sod, 
Put your lips to my ain ; were 1 you I wad. 

My hairt is a-thumpin' like sticks on a drum, 
Just rantin' wi' hunger; coom, gie it a crumb; 
My eyes are a' thirstin' like night for the dew. 
Let them drink, my ain darlin ', in one look f rae you. 

Coom, fill up the crook o' my long waitin' airm, 
I'll huddle ye close an' I'll shiel' ye frae hairm. 
Put your han ' in my ain ; let me spier in your ear ; — 
Coom, Lassie, be good to me. Winna ye, dear? 

Charles Mcllvane, 



SECTION VII 
ITALIAN 



n 



SECTION VII 

ITALIAN 

(See also ''Modern Literature for Oral Interpretation,'* 
Johnson, pages 41 and 43, poetry.) 

X BETWEEN TWO LOVES 

I GOTTA lov' for Angela, 

I lov' Carlotta, too. 

I no can marry both o' dem, 

So w'at I gonna do? 

O! Angela ees pretta girl, 

She gotta hair so black, so curl, 

An' teeth so white as anytheeng. 

An' O! she gotta voice to seeng, 

Dat mak' your hearta feel eet must 

Jump up an ' dance or eet weell bust. 

An' alia time she seeng; her eyes 

Dey smila like Italia 's skies, 

An' makin' flirtin' looks at you — 

But dat ees all w'at she can do. 

Carlotta ees no gotta song, 

But she ees twice so big an ' strong 

As Angela, an' she no look 

So beautiful — but she can cook. 

You oughta see her carry wood ! 

I tal you w'at, eet do you good. 

When she ees be som'body wife 

She worka hard, you bat my life ! 



76 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

She never gattin' tired, too — 

But dat ees all w'at she can do. 

0! my! I weesh dat Angela 

"Was strong for carry wood, 

Or else Carlotta gotta song 

An' looka pretta good. 

I gotta lov' for Angela, 

I lov' Carlotta, too. 

So w'at I gonna do? 

I no can marry both o' dem. 



T. A. Daly, 



SO GLAD FOR SPREENG 



Eef som'body com' today 

To dees fruita-stan' an' say: 

' ' Wat ? Banana two f or fi ' ? 

Seems to me dat's verra high!*' 

I wonld look up een da sky 

Where da sun ees shine so bright, 

An' da clouds so sof ' an' white 

Sail like boats I use' to see 

Een da bay at Napoli; 

An' so softa theeng I am, 

I would notta care a dam 

Eef de customer should be 

Sly enough for taka three! 

Eef like dat you com' today 

Mebbe so I justa say : 

**See da Tony McAroni! 

He ees verray lazy thing, 

Wat da deuce he care for money? 

Here ees com' da spreeng!" 



Material for Interpretation 77 

Eef today I had a wife 

An ' she say : ' ' My love ! my life ! 

I mus' have fi '-dollar note 

For da new spreeng hat an' coat," 

Theenk I gona grab her throat, 

Bang her head agains' da wall? 

Eh, Today? Oh, not at all! 

She would look so pretta dere 

Weeth da sunshine on her hair, 

I would look at her, an' den 

I would tal her : ' ' Taka ten 1 " 

Eef I had a wife today 

I am sure dat I would say : 

**A11 right, Mrs. McAroni, 

I am verry softa theeng. 

"Wat de deuce I care for money? 

Here ees com' da spreeng!" 



T. A. Daly, 



DA 'MERICANA GIRL 



I GATTA mash weeth Mag McCue, 

An' she ees 'Mericana too! 

Ha! w'at you theenk? Now, mebbe so, 

You weell no calla me so slow 

Eef som'time you can looka see 

How she ees com' an' flirt weeth me. 

Most evra two, free day, my fraud. 

She stop by dees peanutta-stand 

An' smile an' mak' da googla-eye 

An' justa look at me an' sigh. 

An' alia time she so excite' 

She peeck som fruit an' taka bite. 



78 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

! my, she eesa look so sweet 
I no care how much fruit she eat. 
Me? I am cool an' mak' pretand 
I want no more dan be her fraud; 
But een my heart, you bat my life, 
I theenk of her for be my wife. 
Today I theenk: ^*Now I weell see 
How moocha she is mash weeth me," 
An' so I speak of dees an' dat, 
How moocha playnta mon' I gat, 
How mooch I makin' evra day 
An' w'at I spand an' put away. 
An' den I ask, so queeck, so sly: 
* ' You theenk som ' pretta girl weeU try 
For lovin' me a lettla beet?" — 
0! My! she eesa blush so sweet! — 
**An' eef I ask her lika dees 
For geevin' me a leetla keess. 
You s 'pose she geeve me van or two ? ' ' 
She tal me: ''Twenty-free for you!" 
An' den she laugh so sweet, an' say: 
*'Skeeddoo! Skeeddoo!" an' run away. 

She like so mooch for keessa me 

She gona geeve me twanty-t 'ree ! 

I s'pose dat w'at she say — ''skeeddoo" — 

Ees alia same "I lova you." 

Ha! w'at you theenk? Now, mebbe so 

You weell no calla me so slow ! 

T. A. Daly. 



Material for Interpretation 79 

MIA CARLOTTA 

Giuseppe, da barber, ees greata for ^'masli,'* 

He gotta da bigga, da blacka mustache, 

Good clo'es an' good styla an' playnta good cash. 

Wenevra Giuseppe ees walk on da street, 
Da peopla dey talka, ' ' How nobby ! how neat ! 
How softa da handa, how smalla da feet." 

He raisa hees hat an' he shaka hees curls, 
An' smila weeth teetha so shiny like pearls; 
O ! many da heart of da seeily young girls 

He gotta. 
Yes, playnta he gotta — 

But notta 

Carlotta ! 

Giuseppe, da barber, he maka da eye, 

An' lika da steam engine puffa an' sigh, 

For catcha Carlotta w'en she ees go by. 

Carlotta she walka weeth nose in da air. 

An' look through Giuseppe weeth far-away stare, 

As eef she no see dere ees som'body dere. 

Giuseppe, da barber, he gotta da cash, 
He gotta da clo'es an' da bigga mustache. 
He gotta da seeily young girls for da ''mash," 
But notta — 
You bat my life, notta — 
Carlotta. 
I gotta ! 

T. A. Daly. 



80 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

DA VERRA LEETLA BABY 

Irish Padre Tommeeckbride 
Laughed an* laughed onteel he cried. 
Always he ees do dat way 
At mos' evra theeng I say. 
Ees no matter w'at I spoke, 
He would tak' eet for a joke; 
Eet's a shame to tease a man 
Wen he do da best he can! 

Now, for eenstance, yestaday 
Dere's a chrees'nin' down our way; 
Eet's baby caU' ''Carlott' " 
Dat my cousin Rosa's got. 
O! so small, jus' two weeks old — 
Een wan handa you could hold ! 
Wal, I am da wan dat stand 
For dees leetla child, my fraud — 
How you call een deesa land ? 
''Godda-father?" Yes, dat's me! 

Wal, w'en all ees done, you see, 
An' da child ees bapatize', 
Padre Tommeeckbride, he cries: 
**Evrabody com' dees way. 
We must write eet down, ' ' he say. 

While he's writin' een da book, 
From my pocket here I took 
Twenta-fi'-cent piece, my fraud, 
An' I put eet een heese hand. 
** Thanks!" he say, an smiles at me. 
Den Bianca Baldi, she — 



Material for Interpretation 81 

While da padre looks at eet — 
Wheespers : ' ' Dat 's a leetle beet ! ' * 
''Sure," I tal her, ''dat'sa true, 
But da baby's leetla, too." 

Irish Padre Tommeeckbride 
Laughed an' laughed onteell he cried. 
Always he ees do dat way 
At mos ' evratheeng I say ; 
Eet's a shame to tease a man 
"Wen he do da best he can! 

T. A. Daly, 



DA POSTA-CAKD FROM NAPOLI 

So, you gon' sail for Italy? 
Ah, fine ! — ^W 'at can you do for me ? 
Oh, notheeng, please; I don'ta care — 
I weesh you joy while you are dere, 
An' I'll be glad for see you w'en 
Da sheep ees breeng you home agen — 
Eh ? No ! Oh, please don 't sand to me 
No peecture-card from Napoli! 

Oh, yes, wan time da letter-man 
Breeng soocha card to deesa stan'; 
Eet was from gentleman like you 
Dat wanted to be kinda, too. 
Eet showed da town, da bay — ^but, oh, 
I deed not need; so wal I know! 
Ah, no, please don'ta sand to me 
No peecture-card from Napoli. 



82 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Oh, wal, Signor, you are so kind, 

So good to me, I would no mind 

Eef you would send me wan from Kome. 

Eh ? Rome ? No, dat ees not my home. 

Deed I not joose esplain to you 

I weell no care w'at else you do 

So long you don'ta sand to me 

No peecture-eard from Napoli? 

T. A. Daly. 

AN ITALIAN'S VIEWS ON THE LABOR QUESTION 

One man looka at da labor quest' one way, 'noder man 
looka 'noder way. I looka deesa way : 

Longa time ago I gitta born in Italia. Pret' queck I 
gitta big 'nough to know mya dad. I find him one worka 
man. Him worka hard in da hotta sun — sweat like da 
wetta rag to maka da 'nough mon' to gitta da grub. Mya 
moth' worka too — work lika da dog. Dey make alia da 
kids work — ^mea too. Dat maka me tired. I see da king, 
da queen, and da richa peop' driva by in da swella style. 
It maka me sick. I say, "Da world alia wrong. Da rich 
have too mucha mon', too mucha softa snap. Da poor have 
too mucha work, too mucha dirt, too mucha tougha luck." 

Dat maka me one dago anarchista. I hear 'bout America, 
da freea countra, where da worka man eata da minca pie 
an' da roasa beef. 

I taka da skip — take da ship — sail ova da wat'— reacha 
Newa York. 

Va ! It reminds me of Naples — ^beautifula bay, blue sky, 
da plenty lazaroni and mucha dirta streets. 

I looka 'r -round for da easy job. It noa go. Da easy 
jobs alia gone. 



Material for Interpretation 83 

It mora work to gitta da work dan da work itself. I 
gitta down on da richa peop ' more anda more alia da time. 
Geea Whiz! Dat freea countra maka me sick! 

Well, aft' while I strika da job — pounda da stone on da 
railroad. It neer keela, but I eata da ver' lit' grub, weara 
da olda clothes, and socka da mon' in mya sock eacha 
day. I learna da one thing — da mon' maka da mare go. 

I catcha da spirit of a da town: I maka what you calla 
da progress. I find da man what maka da mon' nev' do 
da harda work. I quit. I buya da buncha bana', putta da 
banan' ina da bask ona my arm, sella him ona da street. 
Hulla Gee! I maka da twenty-fi' cent a day clear. 

Yer' soon I have da gr-rata lotta mon'. I buya one 
handa org'; maka da mus', playa Ta-ra-ra Boom all over 
da country; maka mor' mon'; den I buy Jocka da monk'. 
Da monk' is lika da business man — ver' smart. I maka 
him my cashier. Him passa da contribution box like da 
deacon in da church. Him maka da face, him dance. 

Da biz grow. We sella da hand org' — ^buy one streeta 
piano. I hira one 'sistant. Da 'sistant pusha da piano, I 
grinda da crank, da monk' taka da mon'. 

We gitta da ver' wella off. I gitta mar-r-red. Buya me 
one home, sweeta home. 

I investa ma mon' — ^buya da fruita stands on da side- 
walk — ^hire da cheapa dago chumps to runna da stands. 

Da labor quest' ver' simp' — ver' plain. When 1 poor 
I say: — "Shoota da monopola! Keela da richa man!" 
Alia da same when you in Roma do lika da Roma peop'. 

Now I one r-richa man. I weara da fine clothes — picks 
my teeth with da golda pick — weara da diamond stud — 
driva ma team — and snappa ma fingers. 

It maka alia da dif in da world which side da fence 
you stana on. Joe Kerr. 



84 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

*' DESCENDED FROM CHRISTOPH' COLOMB = 

I AM-A one Ital-i-an 
People call-a me Da-go-manj 
I lik-a live U-ni-ted State, 
Mak-a heap o' mon-a any rate; 
Smok-a vera cheap-a eiga-ret, 
Eat-t macaroni an' spaget' 
I am-a descended from 
Christoph' Colomb'! 

I bring-a dis-a leetal monk 
Ovair in dis-a leetal trunk; 
Thongh-a vera homely one, 
He help-a me mak-a da mon' 
Irish man he call-a me, 
Da leetal monkey pedigree; 
Call-a da monk ancestor from 
Christoph' Colomb'! 

I drag piano through de town ; 
People throw me da nickel down ; 
I mak-a vera sweet-a bow 
To servant gal, she mak-a row; 
Call-a me da piano horse! 
Say plan' so old, o' course 
It was-a descended from 
Christoph' Colomb M 

Beeg-a fool come evair day, 
Ask-a where I learn to play ; 
Tell-a me I must-a be 
Great-a lik-a Pad-a-ru-si-kee ! 



Material for Interpretation 85 

Small boy mak-a bad-a face ; 
Call-a me dat-a stumpy race — 
Mis-fit-a descended from 
Christopb' ColombM 

Cable car he bump-a me, 
Police-a-man he thump-a me, 
Tnick-a-man upset-a me, 
Sprinkle-a-man he wet-a me, 
Fire-a-engine come-a dash. 
Break da organ all-a smash ! 
Kill da monk descended from 
Christoph' ColombM 

Fred Emerson Brooks, 



I 



SECTION vni 

NEGRO 



SECTION YIII 

NEGRO 

(See also *' Modern Literature for Oral Interpretation," 
Johnson, page 152, prose.) 

IN THE MORNING 

'Lias! 'Lias! Bless de Lawd! 
Don' you know de day's erbroad? 
Ef you don' git up, you scamp, 
Dey '11 be trouble in dis camp. 
T 'ink I gwine to let you sleep 
Wile I meks yo' boa'd an' keep? 
Dat's a putty howdy-do — 
Don' you hyeah me, 'Lias — ^you? 

Bet ef I come crost dis flo' 
You won' fin' no time to sno'. 
Daylight all a-shinin' in 
Wile you sleep — ^w'y hit's a sin! 
Ain't de can'le-light enough 
To bu 'n out widout a snuff, 
But you go de mo'nin' thoo 
Bu'nin' up de daylight too? 

'Lias, don' you hyeah me call? 
No use tu'nin' to'ds de wall; 
I kin hyeah dat mattus squeak; 
Don' you hyeah me w'en I speak? 
89 



90 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Dis hyeah clock done struck off six— 
Ca'line, bring me dem ah sticks! 
Oh, you down, suh; huh! you down — ? 
Look hyeah, don' you daih to frown. 

Ma'ch yo'se'f an' wash yo face, 
Don ' you splattah all de place ; 
I got somep'n else to do, 
'Sides jes' cleanin' aftah you. 
Tek dat comb an' fix yo' haid — 
Looks jes lak a feddah baid. 
Look hyeah, boy, I let you see 
You sha'n't roll yo' eyes at me. 

Come hyeah ; bring me dat ah strap I 
Boy, I '11 whup you 'twell you drap ; 
You done felt yo'se'f too strong, 
An' you sholy got me wrong 
Set down at dat table thaih ; 
Jes' you whimpay ef you daih! 
Evah mo'nin' on dis place. 
Seem lak I mus' lose my grace. 

Fol' yo' ban's an' bow yo' haid — 
"Wait ontweel de blessin ' 's said ; 
*'Lawd, have mussy on ouah souls — " 
(Don' you daih to tech dem rolls — ) 
*' Bless de food we gwine to eat — " 
(You set still — I see yo' feet; 
You jus' try dat trick agin!) 
' ' Gin us peace an ' joy. Amen ! ' ' 

Paul Laurence Dunbar. 



Material for Interpretation 91 



DE CIRCUS TURKEY 

He's de worst I evah see, 

Dat ole turkey up 'n de tree ; 
I bin pesta'n him 'n' punchin' him saince mohnin'. 

I nev', saince I was bo'n, 

See de way he do stick on, 
En he 'pears to look down at me 's if he scornin'. 

He doesn't seem to 'pear 

Ter hab a bit ob fear, 
Kase I'se wasted all mah strength 'n' bref upon 'im. 

It may be he's in fun, 

But I'll scab 'im wid dis gun, 
I'se boun' ter git 'im down some way, dog on 'im. 

I'se fro'd mos' all de sticks 

In de yard, 'n' all de bricks; 
Ef yo' was me, whut under d' sun 'ud yo' do? 

He doesn't seem ter change, 

'N' 'pears ter act so strange, 
I d'clar he mus' be pestah'd wid a hoodoo. 

I tale yo' hit's er fac', 

I nearly broke mah back 
Er histin' shoes 'n' brickbats up dar to 'im. 

'Pon dis Tanksgibbin' day, 

I hate ter shoot, but say — 
I b'leeve a gun's de only thing '11 do 'im! 

I 'low I'll make 'im think 
He kain't gib me de wink 
An' salt upon dat limb en be secuah. 



92 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Biff! Bang! I'll make 'im sing; 
Mah goodness, watch 'im swing! 
Wy? lie's a reg'lah circus turkey, suah. 

Hi see de hull thing now — 

Das Rasmus boy, I 'low. 
Has done gone tied 'is feet up dar wid strings. 

No wonday dat he tried 

Ter come off; he was tied, 
'N' all what he could do was flap 'is wings. 

Come hyar, yo' Kasmus, quick, sah! 

I'se min' ter use dis stick, sah! 
Come hyar, from ovar dar, from whar yo' stood. 

I 'low I ought to lay yo' 

Down on dat groun' en flay yo'; 
I'se tempted mos' ter use a stick o' wood. 

Yo' kain't go to de meetin' 

An' w'en it comes ter eatin', 
Yo' mudder sais yo' kain't come to de table. 

I bet you'll sing er tune, 

Kase all dis aftahnoon 
We's 'cided dat we'll lock yo' in de stable. 

Yo' kain't hab none de white meat, 

An' yo' kain't hab none de brown meat, 
An' yo' jes' hearn whut yer po' ole mudder sade; 

Yo' kain't hab none de stuffin', 

Er de cranber' sauce er nuffin'. 
An' 'cisely at six o'clock yo' go ter baid. 

Ben King, 



I 



Material for Interpretation 93 



A DARK BROWN DIPLOMAT 

'*Yas'in — Miss Winston — yo^ callin' me? I'm heah in 
de kitchen, ma'am. Yo' lookin' kind of tired like, dis 
moknin' — I hope yo' ain' feeling badly. Ma'am — ^mad 
wif me? Why, fo' Gawd Miss Winston — what I done? 
Things a-missin' from yo' kitchen? Why, dat mighty 
strange — I bin heah in de kitchen all de time, an' I ain' 
missed nnffin'. Does I take things home wif me? Why, 
yas'm — sometimes — we all does. I did take a few things 
dat night — dat was de night I tuk some things to ole Miss 
Johnsing — she's so poly. I ain't tuk nnffin much tho' — 
jes' a carcass ob a ole chicken I know yo ain' gwine 
hab no use fo'. Mos' a whole chicken? No'm — yo' mis- 
tookin' 'bout dat. Miss Winston — wam't nuffin' but ole 
handful ob bones dat I tuk. Why Miss Johnsing only got 
four chillen an' dey wasn't but one helpin' 'round — so 
yo' see yo'self, ain't nuffin' but a carcass. What else I 
tuk? I — I don't jes' recomember — Sugar? Yas'm, I 
reckon dey was a leetle sugar — ^an' sweet potaters? Yas'm, 
jes' a few, knotty ones, I know yo' ain't gwine hab no use 
fo'. Buttah — yas'm — a mite o' buttah. Can't hab sweet 
potaters widout buttah, yo' know. Miss Winston, (laughs) 
Cake? — ^No'm dey wa'n't no cake. I reckon dat's 'bout 
all dey wuz in dat basket. Does I know what, ma'am? 
Dat stealin'? 'Fo' Gawd — Miss Winston — dat ain't 
stealin '. What is stealin ' ? Why — I reckon, when yo ' bust 
in de houses ob people yo' don't know — dat yo' ain't got 
no 'quaintance wif — dat's stealin'. Why ain't I ask yo' 
fo' de things? Well Miss Winston, I know when yo' heah 
how poly ole Miss Smiff is — I know yo' gwine give 'em 
to me — so what's de use ob askin' yo? Did I say Miss 



94 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Smiff — well, I meant Miss Johnsing — it wuz Miss Johnsing 
I tuk 'em to — she's de one dat's poly, Dat's de truff I'm 
tellin' yo'. De cake? No 'm, de cat don't eat de cake — ^it's 
de miceses. I nevah did see a house so full of miceses. 
Some mohnin's I come down to git de breakfast, an' I fin' 
dey hab et up half a cake over night. Dat cat ? She won 't 
tech miceses — she got to hab cream — she has. Ma'am? 
Mistah Winston says ma cookin' don' make up fo' me 
'stravagance ? Why, I don't know what he means. Ain't 
no one ebber foun' no fault befo' wid ma' cookin' — nevah 
dat I heard tell ob. 

''Well, I reckon I ain't seem to suit yo' all — so I bettah 
be movin' 'long. I'se awful sorry to go I is. Yo' bin 
mighty kind to me, yo' an' Mistah Winston. Ma'am? 
Et dem things maself ? Miss Winston — I gib yo' ma word 
ob honor^ — I ain't had a smell ob dem things maselt. 
Yas'm — I heah yo'. Yas'm, I gwine promise nevah to do 
dat no mo ! Yas'm. I gwine ask yo' fo' eb'ry thing I take. 
Yas'm I sholy is. 

— Marjory Benton Cooke. 
(Arranged by Gertrude Johnson) 



OL' JOSHWAY AN' DE SUN 

Ol' Joshway stood in front er his tent, 

An' sicc'd his soldiers on. 
But when he turned fer ter look aroun', 

De day wuz nearly gone. 
He rubbed his beard, he scratched his head, 

An' kicked his heel in de groun'; 
Kaze he wanter finish de bat tie- job 

Befo' de Sun went down. 



Material for Interpretation 95 

He look ter de East an' he look ter de West, 

An' lie wave his han' on high, 
"King Sun," sezee, "I want you ter see 

Me smite um hip an' thigh! 
Come down ter camp an' rest you'se'f 

A little while wid me, 
I'll git you a fan an' big wide cheer 

An' set it whar you kin see." 

Dey wuz lots mo' talk, but de Sun come down 

An' tuck a little ease, 
An' when he got too awful hot, 

He called up ol' Brer Breeze! 
**My time is short," sez de Sun, sezee, 

**An' you better do yo' do, 
Kaze I'm feelin' like I wanter see 

Dis mortual scuffle throo!" 

Well, dey fit an' fit an' fowt an' fowt 

Right dar in de light er de Sun, 
But Joshway f railed um out an' soon 

He had um on de run. 
King Sun, he say, * ' I 'm over due 

'Cross dar whar de night's still black; 
De folks will wake 'fo' de chickens crow 

An ' put der big clocks back. ' ' 

01' Joshway thanked him mighty polite. 

An' ax him fer ter come ag'in; 
King Sun, he say, ''I speck dat I 

Will be whar I 've allers been. ' ' 
Den he mosied off, kaze he ain't got time 

Fer ter set an' talk an' stay; 
He hatter go off whar de night still dark 

An' start ter breakin' day. 



96 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

"Well, time run on an' people 'spute 

'Bout Joshway an' de Sun, 
Some say dis an' some say dat 

An' splain why Joshway won; 
Sometimes when he wuz settin' 'roun' 

Whar he couldn't he'p but hear 
He'd say, ''Go in de settin '-room an' see 

How he scorched my big armcheer!" 

— Joel Chandler Harris. 



AUNT AMITY'S SILVER WEDDING 

It was the great silver wedding at Judge Stanley's that put the 
idea into Aunt Amity's head. She was one of the Stanleys' former 
slaves. She lived with her husband, Frank the fiddler, on a place 
some miles up the river. She had always been a woman of initiative 
and of strong social following and when she proclaimed that she and 
Frank were to have a silver wedding they immediately came into a 
new prestige. Amity was young for her age, looked thirty-three, 
and could not have been much over forty. She moved with the 
alacrity of youth, and her laugh was as care-free as a child's. She 
was rather stout and was wont to say of herself, ''Nobody, to see 
dat wide shadder, would take me for de light dancer I is." When 
she sought her friend, the mistress of Sugarsweet Plantation, to enlist 
her interest and a little assistance, that lady allowed Amity to tell 
her all about it, and succeeded in controlling her features for the 
greater part of the recital.) 

*'C'ose I knows silver things is expensive, an' so is fine 
suppers expensive an' I ain' gwine give no scrub ban-quet. 
Dey ain't nobody but can affo'd to fetch some little silver 
piece, such, as, well, mostly dimes an' two-bitses an' maybe 
fif ty-centses ; an' it mought be dat a few would drap us 
a dollar. I done give out dat I ain 't gwine stint de supper. 
I '11 have every kind o ' cake dey is — an ' fried chicken — an ' 
chicken-pie — an' chicken fricassee — an' chicken-salad — an' 
chick — I mean to say, an' swimp gumbo an' beat biscuit, 
an' — swimps is comin' in thick in the river now. 



II 



Material for Interpretation 97 

"In c'ose e£ you was studyin' about white weddin's, 
Missy, dat's a white horse of another color. Eh, Lord! 
How many th'ough an' th'ough silver soup-ladles an' 
tea-sets you reckon I 'd git, ef I expected 'em ? No, honey ; 
dis here's gwine be jes a done-over ole breakdown weddin', 
wid a' overdone brokedown bride an' groom. But we 
can't be no younger 'n we is, an' hit's now or never. 

''An' so — is you got air ole bride's veil lift over f'om 
past times — or wreath — or anything flimsy an' white, 
please, ma'am — to set off dis ole secon'-han' bride? An' 
maybe one o' Marse Honore's white waist-coats for Frank 
— anything, so it's white, for bofe of us — so's we won't 
shame de ban-quet. I don 't crave to disgrace de feast wid 
onproper weddin '-gyarmints. 

"An' maybe somebody mought affo'd a silver weddin '- 
ring for me, — I ain' nuver had no ring, — or no silver 
thimble, nuther. I sho' does hope dey'U fetch in a few 
showy plush-box deviltries, even ef de silver on 'em '11 melt 
whilst you looks at it. 

"I had a silver-plated soup-dipper, once-t. I got it for a 
tea-prize. I nuver drinks no tea. I buys it jes for de prize 
cowpons — an ' trades it back in de sto 'e for tobacco. 

"But dat prize dipper sho' did look dazzlin' when it 
come, reposin' in dat plush-tufted box. I cert 'in 'y was 
tickled! But one day I dipped out some lye-hominy wid 
it, an' it must 'a' slid down in de pot an' b'iled all day. 
I tell yer, Missy, hit went in white but it come out a good 
mulatter-color. 

"Frank say de silver all subsided into de hominy an' 
we-all e 't it up, so we 's silver-coated inside ef we is copper- 
plated on de outside. 

"But I sho' does wusht I had it now, in all its plush 
glory for de weddin'. 



98 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

'*It 'd be a fine side-boa 'd piece — ef I bad a side-boa 'd. 

''You can't have but one silver weddin' in a lifetime, I 
an ' I wants to bave it racklass, wbilst I 'm a-bavin ' ! Even 
ef you stays beab long enougb to bave two, dey say de i 
silver turns to gold, an' Gord knows wbat a po' ole nigger 
resurrected bride would do for gold presents — ^less'n luck 
cbanges ! 

"But maybe, seein' it's silver, somebody mought ri- 
comember to buy me a tbimble — or a breastpin. Ole 
Hannah, de Williamson's cook, she got a lovely broocb, a 
silver fryin'-pan. It makes you bongry to look at it. Ef 
somebody only tbougbt enougb o' me — an' then o' c'ose 
der is Frank. But Frank ain 't got no title to none o ' dese 
silver presents. Not Frank! 

"Oh, yas 'm; of co'se be 's my chu'eh husban' all right, 
tut not dat husban' ! Yer know what become of my firs' 
husban', Solon, don' yer, missy? A triflin' yaller gal stole 
'im f'om me. Dat's what hecome of 'im; an' I don't 
begrudge 'im to her. But as to whar he is, Gord knows, 
honey. Livin' or dead, he 's all one to me now. Last time 
I heerd tell of 'im, he was waitin' on Frank's sister, down 
in Freetown. He mought be my brother-in-law by now, 
for all I know. 

"So I means to say what I say. I ain't been married 
to Frank Stillwater on'y jes about five yeahs. An' I been 
studyin' about dat, too, and dat 's one o' de p'ints I come 
to insult you about. Sence Frank is been married five 
yeahs, I don't see why he can't draw for a wood weddin'. 
Dey tell me five yeahs o' marri'ge is de wooden anniver- 
sary, an' dat's de easiest weddin' dey could give on a 
plantation, a wooden one is. 

"Yas'm; an' jes plain woodi What 's de matter wid a 
load o' fire wood or fat pine for kindlin'? Frank would 



Material for Interpretation 99 

be glad to git anything, f 'om a box o' matches to a hen- 
coop ; an ' he gwine fiddle for 'em free, anyhow. 

**But heah I'm gwine on an' forgittin' all about the 
bridal veil ! Is yon got any ole lace left-overs, Missy, dat 
I monght wear for a veil ? I '11 do it up keerf ul an ' fetch 
it back, yes 'm. ' ' 

Buth McEnery Stuart. 
Arranged by Gertrude E. Johnson. 



THEOLOGY IN THE QUARTERS 

Now, I 's got a notion in my head dat when you come to die, 

An' Stan' de 'zamination in de Cote-house in de sky. 

You '11 be 'stonished at de questions dat de angel 's gwine 

to ax 
When he gits you on de witness-stan' an' pins you to de 

f ac 's ; 
'Cause he '11 ax you mighty closely 'bout your doin's in de 

night, 
An' de water-million question 's gwine to bodder you a 

sight ! 
Den your eyes '11 open wider dan dey ebber done befo'. 
When he chats you 'bout a chicken scrape dat happened 

long ago ! 

De angels on de picket-line erlong de iviilky Way 

Keeps a-watchin' what you 're drib in' at, an' hearin' what 

you say; 
No matter what you want to do, no matter whar you ^s 

gwine, 
Dey 's mighty ap ' to find it out an ' pass it 'long de line ; 
And of 'en at de meetin', when you make a fuss an' laugh. 
Why, dey send de news a-kitin ' by de golden telegraph ; 



100 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Den de angel in de orfis, what 's a-settin' by de gate, 
Jes' reads de message wid a look an' claps it on de slate! 

Den you better do your duty well an' keep your conscience 

clear, 
An' keep a-lookin' straight ahead an' watchin' whar you 

steer ; 
'Cause arter while de time '11 come to journey fum de Ian', 
And dey '11 take you way up in de a'r an' put you on de 

Stan ' ; 
Den you '11 hab to listen to de clerk, an' answer mighty 

straight, 
Ef you ebber 'spec' to trabble froo de alaplaster gate! 

John Alfred Macon. 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

What I gwine name mah Ceely's twins? 
I dunno, honey, yit, 
But I is jes er-waitin' fer de fines' I kin git. 
De names is putty nigh run out, 
So many niggahs heah, 
I 'clar' dey 's t'ick as cotton-bolls in pickin'-time o' yeah. 

But 't ain' no use to 'pose to me 
Ole commonary names 
La' ^hizah eth an' Jo&ephine, or Csesah, Torm, an' James, 
'Ca'se dese heah twinses ob mah gal's 
Is sech a diff'ent kine, 
Dey 's 'titled to de grandes' names dat ary one kin fin'; 
Fer sho dese little shiny brats 
Is got de f us '-cut look. 



Material for Interpretation 101 

So mammy wants fine city names lak' you gits out a book. 
I ax Marse Eob, an' lie done say 
Some 'rageous stuff lak' dis: 
He 'd call de bruddah Be'lzeluh, de sistah Genesis; 

Or Alphy an' Omegy — de 
Beginnin' an' de en'. 
But den, ob co'se no man kin tell what mo' de Lawd '11 
sen'; 
Fer de pappy ob dese orphuns — 
You heah me' — I'll be boun', 
While dey 's er-crawlin' on de flo^ he '11 be er-lookin' 
roun'; 

'Ca'se I done seen dem Judas teahs 
He drap at Ceely's grabe, 
A-peepin' 'hin' his han'kercher at ol' Tim's yaller Gabe, 
A-mekin' out to moan an' groan 
Lak' he was gwine 'o bus'. 
Lawd, honey, dem at howls de mos' gits ober it de fus'. 

Annynias an' Saphiry, 
Sis Tab done say to me. 
But he'p me, Lawd! what do she 'spec' dese chillun gwine 
to be? 
'Sides, dem names 's got er cur 'us soun'. 
You says I 's hard to please? 
Well so 'ould any granny be, wid sech a pa'r as dese. 

Ole Pahson Bob he 'low dat I 
Will suttinly be sinnin' 
Onless I gibs 'em names dat starts 'em right in de beginnin'. 
**Iwilla" fer de gal, he say, 
F'om de wo'd ''I will a-rise/' 



102 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

An' dat 'ould show she's startin' up todes glory in de skies ; 

An' fer dis man eliir Aberham^ — 
De fardah ob 'em all, — 
Er else Belsbazzah, who done writ dat writin' on de wall. 
But Pahson Bob — axcuse me, Lawd! — 
He bettah sabe his bref 
To preach de gospel, an' jes keep his 'visin' to hisse'f ; 

Fer nary pusson, white nor black, 
Ain' gib no p'ints to me 
'Bout namin' dese heah Chris 'mus gif 's asleep on granny's 
knee 
Now heshaby — don' squirm an' twis'; 
Be still, you varmints, do ! 
You ain' gwine hab no niggah names to tote aroun' wid 
you!), 

'Cause on de questiom ob dese names 
I sho is hed mah min' 
Perzactly an' percidedly done med up all de time; 
Fer mah po' Ceely Ann — ^yas, Lawd, 
Jes nigh afo' she died, 
She rame' dis gal " Neu-ral-gia, " ^ her boy twin ''Hom-i- 
cide"!^ 

Mary Fairfax Childs, 

* These names were actually given to two children. 



WHY THE GUINEAS STAY AWAKE 

* ' One time 'way long back yander dem guineas wuz des 
ez drowsy w'en night come ez any er de yuther folks. 
Dey 'd go ter roos', dey would, en dey 'd drap off ter 
sleep time der head totch de piller. 



Material for Interpretation 103 

'*In dem days dey could 'a' had pillers ef dey'd a-wanted 
um, en bolsters, too, fer dat matter, en likewise fedder- 
beds, kaze dey would n 't 'a ^ had ter go no fur ways fer de 
fedders. 

*'But ne'er mind 'bout dat; no sooner did dey git up 
on de roos' dan dey drap off ter sleep, en dey kep' on dat 
away twel bimeby one time Brer Fox made up he min' 
dat he better be kinder sociable en pay urn a call atter dey 
done gone ter bed. 

"Dar wuz times w'en Brer Fox tuck a notion fer ter 
walk 'bout in de daytime, but mos' allers inginer'Uy he 
done he pomernadin' 'twix' sundown en sun-up. I dunner 
w'at time er night hit wuz w'en Brer Fox call on de 
guineas, but I speck 't wuz long todes de shank er de 
evenin', ez you may say. 

''Yit, soon er late, w'en he got ter whar de guineas live 
at, he foun' um all soun' asleep. Now, some folks w'en 
dey go anywhars fer ter make deyse'f sociable, en fin' 
eve'ybody fas' asleep, would 'a' tu'n 'roun' en made der 
way back home ; but Brer Fox ain't dat kind er man. Dem 
guineas roos' so low en dey look so fine en fat dat it make 
Brer Fox feel like dey wuz his fus' cousin. 

"He sot down on his hunkers, Brer Fox did, en he look 
at um en grin. Den he 'low ter hisse'f : 

'* *I 1 des shake ban's wid one un um en den I '11 go.* 

"Well, Brer Fox went up an shuck ban's wid one un 
um, en he must 'a' squoze mighty hard, kaze de guinea 
make a mighty flutterment; en he mus' 'a' heldt on wid a 
mighty tight grip, kaze w'en he tuck off his hat en bowed 
good-by de guinea went 'long wid 'im. 

"Well, suh, you never is year tell er sech a racket ez 
dem guineas kicked up w'en dey 'skiver dat Brer Fox done 
make off wid one un um. Dey squall en dey squall twel 



104 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

dey rousted up de whole neighborhoods. De dogs got ter 
barMn', de owls got ter hootin', de hosses got ter kickin', 
de cows got ter lowin', en de chickens got ter crowin'. 

*'En mo* dan dat, de guineas wuz dat skeered dat dey 
tu'n right pale on de neck en on de gills, en ef you don't 
b lieve me you kin go up dar in de gyarden en look at um 
fer yo'se'f. 

*'En mo' dan dat, dey got skeered so bad dat from dat 
day ter dis dey don't sleep soun' at night. Dey may squat 
'roun' in de shade en nod in de daytime, dough I ain't 
kotch um at it, en dey may sort er nod atter dey go ter 
roos' at night; but ef a betsey bug flies by um, er yit ef 
a sparrer flutters in de bushes, dey er wide awake; dey 
mos' sholy is." 

Joel Chandler Harris. 
Arranged by Gertrude E. Johnson 



THE DANCE 

Git yo' pardners, fiLst kwattilion! 
Stomp yo' feet an' raise 'em high; 
Tune is: "Oh! dat water-million! 
Gwine to git to home bime-bye. ' ' 
S'lute yo' pardners! — ^scrape perlitely- 
Don't be bumpin' gin de res' — 
Balance all! — ^now, step out rightly; 
Alluz dance yo' lebel bes'. 
Fo'wa'dl foah! — ^whoop up, niggers! 
Back ag%n! — don't be so slow! — 
Swing cornahs! — min' de Aggers! 
When I hoUers, den yo' go. 
Top ladies cross ober! 



Material for Interpretation 105 

Hoi' on, till I takes a dram — 
Gemmen solo! — yes, I 's sober — 
Cain't say how de fiddle am. 
Hands around! — hoi' up yo' faces, 
Don't be lookin' at yo' feet! 
Swing yo' pardners to yo' places! 
Dat 's de way — dat 's hard to beat. 
Sides for'w'd! — when you 's ready — 
Make a bow as low 's you kin ! 
Swing acrost wid opp'site lady! 
Now we'll let you swap ag'in: 
Ladies change! — shet up dat talkin'; 
Do yo' talkin' arter while! 
Bight amd lef! — don't want no walkin' — 
Make yo' steps, an' show yo' style ! 

Irwin Bicssell. 

*^DET AIN'T NO GHOSTS" 

Once 'pon a time dey was a li'l' black boy whut he name 
was Mose. An' whin he come erlong to be 'bout knee- 
high to a mewel, he 'gin to git powerful 'fraid ob ghosts, 
'ca'se dat am sure a mighty ghostly location whut he lib' 
in, 'ca'se dey 's a grabeyard in de hollow, an' a buryin'- 
ground on de hill, an' a cemuntary in betwixt an' between, 
an' dey ain't nuffin' but trees nowhar excipt in de clearin' 
by de shanty an' down de hollow whar de pumpkin-patch 
am. Dat a powerful onpleasant locality for a li'l' black 
boy whut he name was Mose. 

'Ca'se dat li'l' black boy he so specially black he can't 
be seen in de dark at all 'cept by de whites ob he eyes. 
So whin he go' outen de house at night, he ain't dast shut 
he eyes, 'ca'se den ain't nobody, can see him in de least. 



106 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

He jest as invidsible as nuffin'. An' who know' but whut 
a great, big ghost bump right into him 'ca'se it can't see 
him ? An ' dat shore w 'u 'd scare dat li '1 ' black boy power- 
ful' bad, 'ca'se yever'body knows whut a cold, damp' 
pussonality a ghost is. 

So whin dat li '1 ' black Mose go ' outen de shanty at night, 
he keep' he eyes wide open, you may be shore. By day he 
eyes 'bout de size ob butter-pats, an' come sundown he eyes 
'bout de size ob saucers; but whin he go' outen de shanty 
at night, he eyes am de size ob de white chiny plate whut 
set on de mantel; an' it powerful' hard to keep eyes whut 
am de size ob dat from a-winkin' an a-blinkin'. 

So whin Hallowe'en come erlong, dat li'l' black Mose 
he jes mek' up he mind he ain't gwine outen he shack at 
all. He cogitate ' he gwine stay right snug in de shack wid 
he pa an' he ma. So dat all right. Li'l' black Mose he 
Scrooge' back in de corner by de fireplace, an' he 'low' he 
gwine stay dere till he gwine to bed. But byme-by Sally 
Ann, whut live' up de road, draps in, an' Mistah Sally 
Ann, whut is her husban', he draps in, an' Zack Badget an' 
de school-teacher whut board' at Unc' Silas Diggs's house 
drap in, an' a powerful lot ob folks drap in. An' li'l' 
black Mose he seen dat gwine be one s 'prise-party, an' he 
right down cheerful 'bout dat. 

So all dem folks shake dere hands an' 'low ''Howdy,'* 
an' some ob dem say: "Why, dere 's li'l' Mose! Howdy, 
li'r Mose?" An' he so please' he jes grin' an' grin', 
'ca'se he ain't reckon whut gwine happen. So byme-by 
Sally Ann, whut live up de road, she say', "Ain't no sort 
o' Hallowe'en lest we got a jaek-o '-lantern." An' de 
school-teacher, whut board at Unc' Silas Diggs's house, 
she 'low', "Hallowe'en jes no Hallowe'en at all 'thout 
we got a jack-o'-lantern." An' li'l' black Mose he stop' 



Material for Interpretation 107 

a-grinnin', an' lie scrooge' so far back in de corner lie 
'mos' scrooge f rough de wall. But dat ain't no use, 'ca'se 
he ma say', ''Mose, go on down to de pumpkin-patch an' 
f otch a pumpkin. ' ' 

''I ain't want to go," say' li'l' black Mose. 

*'Go on erlong wid yo'," say he ma' right commandin'. 

**I ain't want to go," say' Mose ag'in. 

**Why ain't yo' want to go?" he ma ask'. 

*' 'Ca'se I 's afraid ob de ghosts," say' li'l' black Mose, 
an' dat de particular truth an' no mistake. 

"Go 'long wid your ghosts!" say' li'l' black Mose's ma. 

''What' yo' pick up dat nonsense?" say' he pa. "Dey 
ain't no ghosts." 

An dat whut all dat s 'prise-party 'low: dey ain't no 
ghosts. An' dey 'low dey mus' hab a jack-o'-lantern or 
de fun all sp'iled. So dat li'l' black boy whut he name is 
Mose he done got to fotch a pumpkin from de pumpkin- 
patch down de hollow. So he step' outen de shanty an' 
he Stan' on de door-step twell he get' he eyes pried open 
as big as de bottom ob he ma's wash-tub, mostly, an' he 
say', ''Dey ain't no ghosts." An' he put' one foot on de 
ground, an' dat was de fust step. 

An' li'l' black Mose he tuck anudder step. 

An ' de owl mourn ' out, ' ' Whut-whooo-o-o-o ! ' ' 

An' li'l' black Mose he tuck anudder step. 

An' li'l' black Mose he tuck one look ober he shoulder, 
an' he shut he eyes so tight dey hurt round de aidges, an' 
he pick' up he foots an' run. Yas, sah, he run' right peart 
fast. An' he say': "Dey ain't no ghosts. Dey ain't no 
ghosts." An' he run' erlong de paff whut lead' by de 
buryin '-ground on de hill, 'ca'se dey ain't no fince eround 
dat buryin '-ground at all. 

So he scoot' past dat buryin '-ground whut on de hill, 



108 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

an' dat cemuiitary whut betwixt an' between, an' dat 
grabebard in de hollow, twell be come' to de pumpkin 
patch, an' he roteh' down an' tek erhold ob de bestest 
pumpkin whnt in de patch. An' he right smart scared, 
an he jes cogitate', ''Dey ain't no ghosts," an' wish' he 
goose-pimples don't rise up dat way. An' he jes 'low', 
*'Dey ain't no ghosts," an' so he rotch' down, an' he 
rotch' down, twell he git' a good hold on dat pricklesome 
stem of dat bestest pumpkin whut in de patch, an' he jes 
yank' dat stem wid all he might. 

^'Let loosen my head!" say' a big voice all on a suddent. 

Dat li'l' black boy whut he name is Mose he jump' 'most 
outen he skin. He open' he eyes, an' he 'gin' to shake 
like de aspen-tree, 'ca'se whut dat a-standin' right dar 
behint him but a 'mendjous big ghost! Yas, sah, dat de 
bigges', whites' ghost whut yever was. An' it ain't got 
no head. Ain't got no head at all! Li'l' black Mose he jes 
drap' on he knees an' he beg' an' pray': 

''Oh, 'scuse me! 'Scuse me, Mistah Ghost!" he beg! 
*'Ah ain't mean no harm at all." 

"What for you try to take my head?" ask' de ghost in 
dat fearsome voice whut like de damp wind outen de cellar. 

" 'Scuse me! 'Scuse me!" beg' li'l' Mose. "Ah ain't 
know dat was yo' head, an' I ain't know you was dar at 
aU. 'Scuse me!" 

"Ah 'scuse you ef you do me dis favor," say' de ghost. 
' ' Ah got somefin ' powerful important to say unto you, an ' 
Ah can 't say hit 'ca 'se Ah ain 't got no head ; an ' whin Ah 
ain't got no head, Ah ain't got no mouf, an' whin Ah ain't 
got no mouf. Ah can't talk at all." 

An' dat right logical fo' shore. Can't nobody talk 
whin he ain't got no mouf an' can't nobody have no mouf 
whin he ain't got no head, an' whin li'l' black Mose he 



Material for Interpretation 109 

look', lie see' dat ghost ain't got no head at alL 
Nary head. 

So de ghost say': 

*'Ah come on down yere fo' to git a pumpkin fo' a head, 
an' Ah pick dat ixact pumpkin whut yo' gwine tek, an' 
Ah don 't like dat one bit. No, sah. Ah feel like Ah pick 
yo' up an' carry yo' away, an' nobody see you no more for 
yever. But Ah got somefin' powerful important to say 
unto yo', an' if yo' pick up dat pumpkin an' sot it on de 
place whar my head ought to be, Ah let you off dis time, 
'ca'se Ah ain't been able to talk fo' so long Ah right 
hongry to say somefin '. ' ' 

So li'l' black Mose he heft up dat pumpkin, an' de ghost 
he bend' down, an' li'l' black Mose he sot dat pumpkin on 
dat ghostses neck. An' right off dat pumpkin head 'gin' 
to wink an' blink like a jack-o'-lantern, an' right off dat 
pumpkin head 'gin' to glimmer an' glow f rough de mouf 
like a jack-o'-lantern, and right off dat ghost start' to 
speak. Yas, sah, dass so. 

**Whut yo' want to say unto me?" inquire' li'l' black 
Mose. 

*'Ah want to teU yo'," say' de ghost, '*dat yo' ain't need 
yever be skeered of ghosts, 'ca'se dey ain't no ghosts." 

An' whin he say dat, de ghost jes vanish' away Hke de 
smoke in July. He ain't even linger round dat locality 
like de smoke in Yoctober. He jes dissipate' outen de air, 
an' he gone intirely. 

So li'l' Mose he grab' up de nex' bestest pumpkin an' he 
scoot'. An' he ain' see no ca'se for to remain in dat 
locality no longer. He rotch' down, an' he perambulate' 
right quick to he ma's shack, an' he lift' up de latch, an* 
he open' de do', and he yenter' in. An' he say': 

* ' Yere 's de pumpkin. ' ' 



110 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

An' he ma an' he pa' an' Sally Ann, whut live up de 
road, an' Mistah Sally Ann, whut her husban', an' Zack 
Badget, an' de school-teacher whut board at Unc' Silas 
Diggs's house, an' all de powerful lot of folks whut come 
to de doin's, dey all scrooged back in de cornder ob de 
shack, 'ca'se Zack Badget he been done tell a ghost-tale, 
an' yiver-body powerful skeered. 'Ca'se li'l' black Mose 
he come' a-fumblin' an' a-rattlin' at de do' jes whin dat 
ghost-tale mos' skeery, an' yiver'body gwine imaginate dat 
he a ghost a-fumblin' an' a-rattlin' at de do'. Yas, sah. 
So li'l' black Mose he look' roun' an' peer' roun', an' he 
say': 

''Whut you all skeered fo'?" 

'Ca'se ef anybody skeered, he want' to be skeered, too. 
Dat 's natural. But de school-teacher, whut live at Unc' 
Silas Diggs's house, she say': 

*'Fo' de lan's sake, we fought you was a ghost!'* 

So li'l black Mose he sort ob sniff an' he sort ob sneer, 
an' he 'low': 

**Huh! dey ain't no ghosts." 

Den he ma she powerful took back dat li'l' black Mose 
he gwine be so uppetish an' contrydict folks whut know 
'rifmeticks an' algebricks an' gin'ral countin' widout 
fingers, like de school-teacher whut board at Unc' Silas 
Diggs's house knows, an' she say': 

"Huh! whut you know 'bout ghosts, anner ways, time 
fo' a li'l' black boy whut he name is Mose to be gwine up 
de ladder to de loft to bed." 

*'An' li'l' black Mose he 'low' he gwine wait a bit. He 
'low' he gwine jes wait a li'l' bit. How 'low' he gwine be 
no trouble at all ef he jes been let wait twell he ma she 
gwine up de ladder to de loft to bed, too. So he ma she 
say': 



Material for Interpretation 11! 

**Git erlong wid yo'! Whut yo' skeered ob wMn dey 
ain't no ghosts?" 

An' li'r black Mose be scrooge', and be twist', an' be 
pucker' up be mouf, an' be rub' be eyes, an' prisintly be 
say ' rigbt low : 

*'I ain't skeered ob gbosts wbut am, 'ca'se dey ain' no 
gbosts. ' ' 

'*Den wbut am yo' skeered ob?" ask be ma. 

*'Nuffin'," say' de li'l' black boy wbut be name is Mose; 
**but I jes feel kinder oneasy 'bout de gbosts wbut ain't." 

Ellis Parker Butler, 
Arranged by Gertrude E. Johnson 



NEBUCHADNEZZAR 

You, Nebucbadnezzab, wboa, sab! 
Whar is you tryin' to go, sab? 
I 'd bab you fur to know, sab, 

I 's a-boldin' ob de lines. 
You better stop dat prancin'; 
You 's pow'ful fond ob dancin', 
But I'll bet my yeab's advancin' 

Dat I '11 cure you ob yo' sbines. 

Look beab, mule! Better min' out; 
Fus' t'ing you know you '11 fin' out 
How quick I '11 wear dis line out 

On your ugly stubbo'n back. 
You needn't try to steal up 
An' lif dat precious beel up; 
You 's got to plow dis fiel' up. 

You bas, sab, fur a f ac '. 



112 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Dar, dat 's de way to do it ! 
He 's comin' right down to it; 
Jes watch him plowin' troo it! 

Dis nigger ain 't no fool. 
Some folks dey would 'a' beat him; 
Now, dat would only heat him — 
I know jes how to treat him: 

Yon mus' reason wid a mule. 

He minds me like a nigger. 

If he wuz only bigger 

He 'd fotch a mighty figger, 

He would, I tell you! Yes, sah! 
See how he keeps a-clickin'! 
He ^s as gentle as a chickin, 
An' nebber thinks o' kickin' — 

Whoa dar! Nehuchadnezzah! 

Is dis heah me, or not me? 
Or is de debbil got me? 
Wuz dat a cannon shot me ? 

Hab I laid heah more 'n a week? 
Dat mule do kick amazin'. 
De beast was sp'ilde in raisin' — 
But now I s'pect he's grazin' 

On de oder side de creek. 

Irwin Bussell. 



DE CUSHYILLE HOP 

I 'sE gwine down to de Cushville hop, 

An' dar ain' no nigger gwine ter make me stop; 

Missus gwine ter deck me all up in white, 

So watch de step dat I 'se gettin' in temight. 



Material for Interpretation 113 

Um-hm, ma honey, 'tain' no use; 

Um-hm, may honey, turn me loose, 

Um-hm, ma honey, watch me shine 

When mah foot am a-shakin' in de ole coonjine. 

No black niggahs come foolin' roun' me, 

I 'se jes' to look at, anyone can see; 

I 'se jes a orniment, an' I mus' 'fess 

No niggah put 'is ahm roun ' mah snow-white dress. 

Um-hm, niggah, keep away, understand, 

Um-hm, niggah, look out fo' yo' hand; 

I 'se jes ter gaze at I mus' 'fess, 

So don't put yo' ahm roun' mah snow-white dress. 

Bring out de banjo, plunk-plank, plink, 
Watch de motion of mah step an' mah swing; 
Don't yo' pestah me or make me stop 
When I git in motion at de CushviUe hop. 
Um-hm, niggah, keep away, keep away ! 
Um-hm, niggah, not terday! 
Keep away f 'om me kase I dun kaint stop ; 
I 'se jes caught mah motion fer de Cushville hop. 

Ben King, 



DANCINa IN THE FLAT CREEK QUARTERS 

Listen when I call de figgers ! Watch de music es you go ! 
Chassay forrard! (Now look at 'em! Some too fas' an 

some too slow!) 
Step out when I gibs de order ; keep up even wid de line ; 
What 's got in dem lazy niggers? Stop dat stringin' out 

behin'i 



114 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

All go forrard to de centre! Balance roun' a/n den go hack! 
Keep on in de proper 'rection, right straight up an' down 

de crack ! 
Moobe up sides an' min' de music; listen when you hear 

me speak ! 
(Jes' look at dem Pea Ridge Niggers, how dey 's buckin' 

'gin de Creek!) 



Dat 's de proper action, Sambo! Den you done de biznis 

right ! 
Now show 'em how you knocked de splinters at de shuckin ' 

t ' udder night. 
Try to do your lebbel bes ', an ' stomp it like you use to do ; 
Jes' come down on de '^Plat Creek s'c^ep," an' show de 

Ridge a thing or two! 

Now look at dat limber Jonah, tryin ' to tech de fancy fling ! 
(Who ebber seed a yaller nigger dat could cut de pidgin '- 

wing ? ) 
Try dat kick again dar, Moses ; tell you what, dat 's hard 

to beat! 
(How kin sech a little nigger handle sech a pile o' feet!) 

Swing your corners! Turn your pardners! ('Pears de 

motion's gettin slow,) 
What 's de matter wid de music ? Put some rosgum on dat 

bow! 
Moobe up, Tom — don' be so sleepy! Let 'em see what you 

kin do! 
Light off in de ' ' gra-vine-twis ' " an' knock de "double 

shuffle," too! 



Material for Interpretation 115 

Gosh ! Dat double- j 'inted Steben flings a hif alutin ' hoof ! 
He kicks de dus' plum out de planks an' jars de shingles 

on de roof! 
Steady, now, an ' check de motion ! Let de fiddler stop de 

chune ; 
I smell de possum froo de crack, an' supper 's gwine to 

call you soon. 

De white folks come it mighty handy, waltzin' 'roun' so 

nice an' fine; 
But when you come to reg'lar dancin', niggers leabes 'em 

way behin' ! 

John A. Macon. 



BRER RABBIT AND THE LITTLE GIRL 

"One time, after Brer Rabbit done bin trompin' 'roun' 
huntin' up some sallid fer ter make out his dinner wid, he 
fine hisse'f in de neighborhoods er Mr. Man's house, en 
he pass 'long twel he come ter de gyardin gate, en nigh 
the gyardin gate he see Little Gal playin' 'roun' in de 
san'. Wen Brer Rabbit look 'twix' de gyarden palins en 
see de colluds, en de sparrer-grass, en de yuther gyardin 
truck growin' dar, hit make he mouf water. Den he take 
en walk up ter de Little Gal, Brer Rabbit did, en bow, en 
scrape his foot, en talk mighty nice en slick. 

" 'Howdy, Little Gal,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee; 'how you 
come on?' sezee. 

*'Den de Little Gal, she 'spon' howdy, she did, en she 
ax Brer Rabbit how he come on, en Brer Rabbit, he 'low he 
mighty po'ly. En den he ax ef dis de Little Gal w'at 'er 
pa live up dar in de big w'ite house, w'ch de Little Gal, 



116 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

she up *n say 'twer'. Brer Rabbit lie say he mighty glad, 
kase he des bin up dar fer ter see 'er pa, en he say dat 'er 
pa, he sont ^im out dar fer ter tell de Little Gal dat she 
mus' open de gyardin gate so Brer Rabbit kin go in en git 
some truck. Den de Little Gal she jump 'roun ', she did, en 
she open de gate, en wid dat, Brer Rabbit he hop in, he did, 
en got 'im a mess er greens, en hop out ag'in, en w'en he 
gwine off he make his bow, he did, en tell de Little Gal dat 
he much 'bleege, en den atter dat he put out fer home. 

**Nex' day. Brer Rabbit he hide out, he did, twel he see 
de Little Gal come out ter play, en den he put up de same 
tale, en walk off wid an'er mess er truck, en hit keep on 
dis away, twel bimeby Mr. Man, he 'gunter miss his greens, 
en he keep on a-missin' un um, twell he gotter excusin' 
eve 'body on de place er 'stroyin' un um, en w'en dat come 
ter pas', de Little Gal, she up'n say: 

* ' ' My goodness, pa ! ' sez she, ' you done tole Mr. Rabbit 
fer ter come en make me let 'im in de gyardin atter some 
greens, en ain't he done come en ax me, en ain't I done 
gone en let 'im in ? ' sez she. 

Mr. Man ain't hatter study long 'fo' he see how de Ian* 
lay, en den he laff, en tell de Little Gal dat he done gone 
en disremember all 'bout Mr. Rabbit, en den he up 'n say, 
sezee : 

" 'Nex' time Brer Rabbit come, you tak'n tu'n 'im in, en 
den you run des ez fas ' ez you kin en come en tell me, kase 
I got some bizness wid dat young chap dat's 'bleeged ter 
be 'tend ter/ sezee. 

^*Sho nuff, nex' mawnin' dar wuz de Little Gal playin' 
^roun', en yer come Brer Rabbit atter his 'lowance er 
greens. He wuz ready wid de same tale, en den de Little 
Gal she tu'n him in, she did, en den she run up ter der 
house en holler: 



Material for Interpretation 117 

** ^Oh, pa ! pa ! Oli ! pa. Yer Brer Rabbit in de gyardin 
now ! Yer he is, pa ! ' 

''Den Mr. Man lie rush out en grab up a fishin' line w'at 
wuz hangin' in de back po'ch, en make for de gyardin, en 
w'en he git dar, dar wuz Brer Rabbit tramplin' 'roun' on 
de strawbe'y-bed en mashin' down de termartusses. Wen 
Brer Rabbit see Mr. Man, he squot behine a coUud leaf, but 
'twe'n't no use. Mr. Man done seed him, en 'fo' you cin 
count 'leven, he done got ole Brer Rabbit tie hard en fas' 
wid de fishin' line. Atter he done got 'im tie good, Mr. 
Man step back, he did, en say, sezee: 

'* 'You done been fool me lots er time, but dis time 
yo're mine. I 'm gwinter take you en gin you a larrupin',' 
sezee, 'en den I 'm gwinter skin you en nail yo' hide on 
de stable do',' sezee; 'en den to make sho dat you git de 
right kinder larrupin ', I '11 des step up ter de house, ' sezee, 
'en fetch de little red cowhide, en den I '11 take en gin 
you brinjer,' sezee. 

"Den Mr. Man caU ter de Little Gal ter watch Brer 
I Rabbit w'iles he gone. 

"Brer Rabbit ain't sayin' nothin', but Mr. Man ain't 
mo'n out de gate 'fo' he 'gun ter sing; en in dem days 
Brer Rabbit wuz a singer, mon, en w'en he chuned up fer 
;ter sing he make dem yuther creeturs hoi' der bref." 

"Ef I ain't fergit dat song off'n my min', hit run sorter 
;dis yer way : 

" 'De jay-bird hunt de sparrer-nes', 
De bee-martin sail all 'roun'; 
De squir'l holler from de top er de tree, 

Mr. Mole he stay in de groun ' ; 
He hide en he stay twel de dark drap down- 
Mr. Mole he hide in de groun'.' 



118 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

"Wen de Little Gal hear dat, she laugh, she did, en 
she up 'n ax Brer Rabbit fer ter sing some mo', but Brer 
Rabbit he sorter cough, he did, en 'low dat he got a mighty 
bad ho'seness down inter his win 'pipe som'ers. De Little 
Gal she swade en swade, en bimeby Brer Rabbit, he up 'n 
low dat he kin dance mo' samer dan w'at he kin sing. 
Den de Little Gal she ax 'im won't he dance, en Brer 
Rabbit he 'spon' how in de name er goodness kin a man 
dance w'iles he all tie up dis way, en den de Little Gal 
she say she kin ontie 'im, en Brer Rabbit he say he ain't 
keerin' ef she do. Wid dat de Little Gal she retch down 
en enloose de fish-line, en Brer Rabbit he sorter stretch 
hisse'f en look 'roun'." 

"Den, bless yo' soul, honey! Brer Rabbit gedder up 
his footses und' 'im, en he dance outer dat gyardin, en he 
dance home. He did dat! Sho'ly you don't speck dat a 
ole-timer w'at done had 'spe'unce like Brer Rabbit gwine 
ter stay dar en let dat ar Mr. Man sackyfice 'im? Shoo! 
Brer Rabbit dance, but he dance home. You hear me ? " 

Joel Chcmdler Harris. 



OPPORTUNITY 

Granny's gone a-visitin', 
Seen huh git huh shawl 
Wen I was a-hidin' down 
Hime de gyahden wall. 
Seen huh put her bonnet on. 
Seen huh tie de strings, 
An' I 'se gone to dreamin' now 
'Bout dem cakes an' t'ings. 



Material for Interpretation 119 

On de she'f beMme de do — ' 
Mussy, what a feasM 
Soon ez she gits out o' sight, 
I Mn eat in peace. 
I bin watchin' fu' a week 
Des fu' dis hyeah chance. 
Mussy, w'en I gets in daih, 
I '11 des sholy dance« 



Lemon pie an' gingah-cake, 

Let me set an' t'ink — 

Yinegah an' sugah, too, 

Dat '11 mek a drink ; 

Ef dey 's one t'ing dat I loves 

Mos' pn'ticlahly, 

It is eatin' sweet t'ings an' 

A-drinkin' Sangaree. 

Lawdy, won' po' granny raih 

Wen she see de she'f ; 

Wen I t'ink erbout huh face, 

I 's 'mos' 'shamed myse'f. 

Well, she gone, an' hyeah I is. 

Back behime de do' — 

Look hyeah! gran' 's done 'spected me, 

Dain't no sweets no mo'. 



Evah sweet is hid away, 
Job des done up brown; 
Pusson t'ink dat someun t 'ought 
Dey was t'eves erroun'; 



120 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Dat des breaks my heart in two, 
Oh how bad I feel! 
Des to t 'ink my own ^amma 
B'lieved dat I 'u'd steal! 

Paul Laurence Dunhwr. 



THE TALE OF THE 'POSSUM 

From Christmas-Night in the Quarters 

Go 'way, fiddle! folks is tired o' hearin' you a-sqnakin'. 
Keep silence fur yo' betters! — don't you heah de banjo 

talkin'? 
About de 'possum's tail she 's gwine to lecter — ladies, 

listen ! — 
About de ha'r whut isn't da, an' why de ha'r is missin': 

^'Dar's gwine to be a' oberflow," said Noah, looking sol- 
emn — 

Fur Noah tuk the '' Herald," an' he read de ribber 
Column — 

An' so he sot his hands to wuk a-cl'arin' timber-patches, 

And 'lowed he 's gwine to build a boat to beat the steamah 
Natchez. 



or Noah kep' a-nailin' an' a-chippin' an a-sawin'; 

An' all de wicked neighbors kep' a-laughin' an a-pshawin'; 

But Noah didn't min' 'em, knowin' whut wuz gwine to 

happen : 
An' forty days an' forty nights de rain it kep' a-drappin'. 



Material for Interpretation 121 

Now, Noah had done cotched a lot ob ebry sort o' beas'es — 
Ob all de shows a-trabbelin', it beat 'em all to pieces! 
He had a Morgan colt an ' sebral head o ' Jarsey cattle — 
An' druv 'em 'board de Ark as soon 's he heerd de thunder 
rattle. 

Den sech anoder fall ob rain ! — it come so awful hebby, 
De ribber riz immejitly, an' busted troo de lebee; 
De people all wuz drowned out — 'cep' Noah an' de critters, 
An' men he 'd hired to work de boat — an' one to mix de 
bitters. 

De Ark she kep' a-sailin' an' a-sailin' an' a-sailin'; 

De lion got his dander up, an' like to bruk de palin'; 

De sarpents hissed ; de painters yelled ; tell, whut wid all 

de fussin'. 
You c'u'dn't hardly heah de mate a-bossin' 'roun' an' 

cussin'. 

I 

Now, Ham, de only nigger whut wuz runnin ' on de packet, 
„ Grot lonesome in de barber-shop, an' c'u'dn't stan' de 
||;, racket; 

An' so, fur to amuse he-se'f, he steamed some wood an' 
bent it. 

An' soon he had a banjo made — de fust dat wuz invented. 

He wet de ledder, stretched it on; made bridge an' screws 

an^' aprin; 
An' fitted in a proper neck — 't wuz berry long an' 

tap'rin'; 
He tuk some tin, an' twisted him a thimble fur to ring it; 
An' den de mighty question riz: how wuz he gwine to 

string it ? 



122 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

De 'possum had as fine a tail as dis dat I 's a-singin ' ; 
De ha'r 's so long an' thick an' strong, — des fit fur banjo- 

stringin'; I 

Dat nigger shaved 'em off as short as wash-day-dinner 

graces ; 
An' sorted ob 'em by de size, f om little E's to basses. 

He strung her, tuned her, struck a jig, — 't wuz ^'Nebber 

min ' de wedder, ' ' — 
She soun' like forty -lebben bands a-playin' all togedder; 
Some went to pattin'; some to dancin': Noah called de 

figgers ; 
An' Ham he sot an' knocked de tune, de happiest ob 

niggers ! 

Now, sence dat time — it 's mighty strange — dere 's not de 

slightes' showin' 
Ob any ha 'r at all upon de 'possum 's tail a-growin ' ; 
An' curi's, too, dat nigger's ways: his people nebber los' 

'em — 
Pur whar you finds de nigger — dar's de banjo an' de 

'possum ! 

Irvrin Eussell. 



SECTION IX 
FEENCH AND FRENCH CANADIAN 



I 



SECTION IX 
FRENCH AND FRENCH CANADIAN 

''DIEUDONNE" (God-Given) 

IF I sole ma ole blind trotter for fifty dollar cash 
Or win de beeges' prize on lotterie, 
If some good frien' die an lef me fines' house on St. 

Eustache, 
You t'ink I feel more happy dan I be? 

No, sir! An' I can tole you, if you never know before 

Wy de kettle on de stove mak' such a fuss, 

Wy de robin stop hees singin' an' come peekin' t'roo de 

door 
For learn about de nice t'ing come to us — 

An' w'en he see de baby lyin' dere upon de bed 

Lak leetle Son of Mary on de ole tam long ago — 

Wit' de sunshine an' de shadder makin' ring around hees 

head, 
No wonder M'sieu Robin wissle low. 

An' we can't help feelin' glad too, so we call heem Dieu- 
ll donne ; 

' An' he never cry, dat baby, w'en he 's chrissen by de pries' 
All de sam' I bet you dollar he '11 waken up some day, 
An' be as bad as leetel boy Bateese. 

William H. Drummond, 
125 



I 



126 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 



LITTLE BATEESE 

You bad leetle boy, not moche you care 

How busy you 're Mpin' your poor gran'pere 

Tryin' to stop you ev'ry day 

Chasin' de hen aroun' de hay — 

Wy don't you geev dem a chance to lay? 

Leetle Bateese ! 

Off on de fieP you f oiler de plough 
Den w'en you're tire you scare de cow 
Sickin' de dog till dey jomp de wall 
So de milk ain't good for not'ing at all — 
An' you 're only five an' a half dis fall, 

Leetle Bateese! 

Too sleepy for sayin' de prayer tonight? 
Never min' I s'pose it '11 be all right 
Say dem tomorrow — ah! dere he go! 
Fas' asleep in a minute or so — 
An' he'll stay lak dat till de rooster crow; 

Leetle Bateese ! 

Den wake us up right away toute suite 
Lookin' for somet'ing more to eat, 
Makin' me t'ink of dem long leg crane 
Soon as dey swaller, dey start again, 
I wonder your stomach don't get no pain, 

Leetle Bateese! 

But see heem now lyin' dere in bed, 
Look at de arm onderneat' hees head; 



Material for Interpretation 127 

If he grow lak dat till he 's twenty year 
I bet he 11 be stronger dan Louis Cyr 
An' beat all de voyageurs leevin' here, 

Leetle Bateese ! 

Jus' feel de muBcle along hees back, 
Won't geev' heem moche bodder for carry pack 
On de long portage, any size canoe, 
Dere 's not many t 'ing dat boy won't do 
Per he 's got double- joint on hees body too, 

Leetle Bateese! 

But leete Bateese ! please don 't forget 
We rader you 're stayin' de small boy yet, 
So chase de chicken an' mak' dem scare 
An' do w'at you lak wit' your ole gran'pere 
Per w'en you 're beeg feller he won't be dere — 

Leetle Bateese! 
William Henry Drummcmd, 



FOOTBALL AT CHEBANSE ^ 

Dis ball on foot, dey play las' we'k, 

Vas mighty f onny game, 

Dey might haf ' called it "gran' prize fight," 

I t'ink dat's better name. 

De match, it vos feex op between 

De High School on Chebanse, 

An' Parish School of ol' Ste. Anne's 

On nodder side de fence. 

*From ^^The Ballads of Bourbonnais, ' ^ by Wallace Bruee Ams- 
bary. Copyright 1904. Used by special permission of tbe publishers, 
the Bobbs-Merrill Company. 



128 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Dey's nodding else dat talk about, 
For four, five we'k or more; 
Dey mak' display of loafing cop 
Down at LaPlace's store. 
De loafing cop it is de prize 
For vinners of de game. 
An' on de side ees vacant place 
For to engrave dere name. 

Dey charge you fifteen cent admish. 

But I vas got in free, 

Dey use my pasture Ian' for game, 

Von dollar dey pay me. 

Dey's quite a crowd vas com' along. 

From de hull country 'roun', 

De boggay, horse an' vagon heetch 

Mos' overe de hull town. 

An' den I saw a sight, I t'ink, 

I nevere before saw, 

Dem ball on foot chaps all feex op, 

Dey look so vild an' raw, 

Vit long hair like de monkey muff ; 

I t'ink dere fit for kill. 

Before dey got t'roo von meex-op — 

I 'm sure, by gosh ! dey vill. 

Dere's von garcon had muzzle on, 

Lak' dey put on mad dog, 

I say, ''Captaine, vat for dat ees?^' 

He say, *'He bit like hog; 

Ven in de middle of de game, 

He got ver' moch excite, 

He need dose crowbars on in front 

To keep avay dat bite." 



Material for Interpretation 129 

Den dey got soon to beezenesse down, 

De Rouge dey all von side, 

De Bleu dey line on front of dem, 

Yaiting for vord from guide, 

He say ''All h 'right!" an' den de Rouge 

Garcon dat stan' ahead, 

He ben down lak' he play leap-frog, 

Overe de ball an' said: 

**T'ree sixty-ate, two, five, fourteen!*' 
An' den back t'roo he's legs 
He's geeve dat ball an awful push, 
An' den lak' scrambled eggs, 
Dem garcon gat togedder quick, — 
It vas a mos' surprise. 
You can't tell vat dey vos look like 
If you had t 'ousan ' eyes. 

Dey push an' squeeze, an' dan dey mak', 

Vat I call tug of var, 

An' pretty soon dere's von garcon, 

He don't know vere he are. 

' * He 's put to sleep, ' ' dey 's some von say. 

He's tired, I suppose; 

I t'ink it's fonny tam' for nap, 

Ven you gat bloody nose. 



De Rouge dey gain t'ree, four, five point, 

Dey mak' une gran' ''tooch op." 

Dis put de coleur Bleu on fire, 

Dey t 'ink of loafing cop, 

Dey start de game vonce more, again, 

In almos' de same vay. 

De bleachere shout, an' yell it loud. 

To **push on an' mak' hay." 



1S(X Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

I bate dat valk dat Teddy took, 

Yen he run San Juan hill, 

Yas never e half so hard to clim' 

As dis here football mill. 

my ! my ! de blood dey spill, 

Mos' two full bucketsful. 

It looks more lak' beeg slaughter pen, 

Yere Spaniard fight de bull. 

For us now, soon, dough ve don' know, 

Dere's incident in store. 

But ve too interes' in game 

To t'ink of nodding more. 

Dere's bull on Theabault's pasture, 

He's vink de odder eye. 

He's ears dey vas stan' dem op straight, 

He's head he hoi' it high. 

De Eouge, he's mak' it von gran' rush, 

Dat bull he's mak' von, too. 

He's jump de fence, an' den commence. 

For meex op in dat stew. 

In jus' about two minute more. 

He haf de field alone; 

He haf de hull place by heemself, 

He fin' it's all his own. 

Ye's scatter quick, lak' many flea, 

Mak' prompt for de timbere. ♦ 

Ye all gat out of dere right soon. 

Ye vas so awful scare. 

It's den de game, it was call off 

Dat's mean, it vas bus' op, ^^ y 

An' all decide de Durham bull frni^mw^ | 

Yas vin dat loafing cop. 

Wallace Bruce Amsbafy. 



Material for Interpretation 131 

DB NICE LEETLE CANADIENNE 

You can pass on de worl' w'erever you lak, 

Tak' de steamboat for go Angleterrem, 

Tak' car on de State, an' den you come back, 

An' go all de place, I don't care — 

Ma frien' dat 's a fack, I know you will say, 

Wen you come on dis contree again, 

Dere 's no girl can touch, w'at we see ev'ry day, 

De nice leetle Canadienne. 

Don't matter how poor dat girl she may be, 
Her dress is so neat an' so clean, 
Mos' ev'rywan t'ink it was mak' on Paree, 
An' she wear it, wall! jus' lak de Queen. 
Den come for fin' out she is mak' it herse'f, 
For she ain't got moche monee for spen'. 
But all de sam' tarn, she was never get lef ', 
Dat nice little Canadienne. 

"W'en *'un vrai Canayen" is mak' it mariee. 

You t'ink he go leev on beeg flat. 

An' bodder herse'f all de tam, night an' day, 

"Wit' housemaid, an' cook, an' all dat? 

Not moche, ma dear frien', he tak' de maison, 

Cos' only nine dollar or ten. 

Were he live lak blood rooster, an' save de I'argent, 

Wit' hees nice leetle Canadienne. 

I marry ma femme w'en I 'm jus' twenty year. 
An' now we got fine familee, 
Dat skip roun' de place lak leetle small deer, 
No smarter crowd you never see — 



132 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

An' I t'ink as I watch dem all chasin* about. 
Four boy and six girl, she mak' ten, 
Dat 's help mebbe kip it, de stock from run out, 
Of de nice leetle Canadienne. 

she 's quick an ' she 's smart, an ' got plaintee heart. 

If you know correc' way go about, 

An' if you don't know, she soon tole you so, 

Den tak' de firs' chance an' get out; 

But if she love you, I spik it for true, 

She will mak' it more beautiful den, 

An' sun on de sky can't shine lak de eye 

Of dat nice leetle Canadienne. 

William H. Drummond, 

CHARMETTE 

Away off back on de mountain-side, 

Not easy t'ing fin' de spot. 

Were de lake below is long an' wide, 
^^' -|l nice leetle place I got, 
V^'Mebbee ten foot deep by twenty-two. 

An' if you see it, I bet 

You '11 not be surprise w'en I tole to you 

I chrissen dat place Charmette. 



Dat 's purty beeg word, Charmette, for go 
On poor leetle house so small, 
Wit' only wan chimley, a winder or so, 
An' no galerie at ail- 
But I want beeg word, so de worl' will know 
Wat dat place it was mean to me, 
An' dere on de book of Jean Jacques Rousseau, 
Charmette is de nam' I see. 



k 



.4*' 






Material for Interpretation 133 

ma dear Charmette! an' de stove is dere, 
(Good stove) an' de wood-pile too. 

An' stretch out your finger mos' anyw'ere, 

Dere 's plaintee for comfort you — 

You 're hongry ? wall ! you got pork an ' bean 

Mak' you feel lak Edouard de King — 

You 're torsty? Jus' look dere behin' de screen, 

An' mebbe you fin' somet'ing — 

Ha ! Ha ! you got it. Ma dear Charmette. 

Dere 's many fine place, dat 's true, 

If you travel aroun' de worl', but yet 

Were is de place lak you? 

Open de door, don't kip it close — 

Wat 's air of de mornin' for? 

Would you fassen de door on de win' dat blows 

Over God's own boulevard? 

You see dat lake ? Wall ! I alway hate 

To brag — but she's full of trout, 

So full dey can't jump togeder, but wait ,-^, 

An' tak' their chance, turn about — 

An' if you be campin' up dere above, 

De mountain would be so high, 

Very ofPen de camp you'd have to move, 

Or how can de moon pass by? 

It's wonderful place for sure, Charmette, 
An' ev'ry wan say to me — 

1 got all de pleasure de man can get 
'Cept de wif e an' de familee — 
But somebody else can marry ma wife, 
Have de familee too also, 
Wat more do I want, so long ma life 
Was spare to me here below ? 



H 



134 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

For we can't be happier dan we been 

Over twenty year, no siree! 

An' if ever de stranger come between 

De leetle Charmette an' me. 

Den all I can say is, kip out de way. 

For dynamite sure I'll get, 

An' affer dat you can hunt all day 

For me an ' ma dear Charmette. 

WUliam H. Drummond. 



RESPONSE TO A TOAST 

IVIiLORS and Gentlemans — ^You excellent chairman, M. le 
Baron de Mount-Stuart, he have say to me, 'Make de 
toast.' Den I say to him dat I have no toast to make; but 
he nudge my elbow ver soft, and say dat dere is von toast 
dat nobody but von Frenchman can make proper; and, 
derefore, wid your kind permission, I vill make de toast. 
'De brevete is de sole of de feet,' as you great philosophere, 
Dr. Johnson, do say, in dat amusing little vork of his, de 
Pronouncing Dictionnaire ; and, derefore, I vill not say ver 
moch to de point. Yen I vas a boy, about so moch tall, and 
used for to promenade de streets of Marseilles et of Rouen, 
vid no feet to put onto my shoe, I nevare to have expose 
dat dis day vould to have arrive. I vas to begin de vorld 
as von garcon — or, vat you call in dis countrie, von vaitaire 
in a cafe — vere I vork ver hard, vid no habillemens at all 
to put onto myself, and ver little food to eat, excep' von 
old blue blouse vat vas give to me by de proprietaire, just 
for to keep myself fit to be showed at ; but, tank goodness, 
tings dey have change ver moch for me since dat time, and 
I have rose myself, seulement par mon Industrie et per- 



il 



Material for Interpretation 135 

severance. Ah ! mes amis ! ven I hear to myself de flowing 
speech, de oration magnifique of you Lor' Maire, Monsieur 
Gobbledown, I feel dat it is von great privilege for von 
etrange to sit at de same table, and to eat de same food, 
as dat grand, dat majestique man, who are de terreur of de 
voleurs and de brigands of de metropolis ; and who is also, 
I for to suppose, a halterman and de chef of you common 
scoundrel. Milors and gentlemans, I feel dat I can perspire 
to no greatare honneur dan to be von common scoundrel- 
man myself; but, helas! dat plaisir are not for me, as I 
are not freeman of your great cite, not von liveryman 
servant of von of you compagnies joint-stock. But I must 
not forget de toast. Milors and Gentlemans ! De immortal 
Shakispeare he have write, 'De ting of beauty are de joy 
for nevermore.' It is de ladies who are de toast. Vat is 
more entrancing dan de charmante smile, de soft voice, der 
vinking eye of de beautiful lady! It is de ladies who do 
sweeten de cares of Life. It is de ladies who are de g^iiding 
stars of our existence. It is de ladies who do cheer but not 
inebriate, and derefore, vid aU homage to de dear sex, de 
toast dat I have to propose is, 'De Ladies! God bless dem 

Litchfield Moseley. 
(From ^'A Chanty Diimer/') 

THE FAMILY LARAMIE 

HssH ! look at ba-bee on de leetle blue chair, 

Wat you t'ink he's tryin' to do? 

Wit' pole on de han' lak de lumberman, 

A-shovin' along canoe. 

Dere's purty strong current behin' de stove. 

Were it's passin' de chimley-stone. 



^ 



136 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

But he'll come roun' yet, if lie don't upset, 
So long lie was lef ' alone. 

Dat's way ev'ry boy on de house begin 
No sooner he's twelve mont' ole; 
He'll play canoe up an' down de Soo 
An' paddle an' push de pole, 
Den haul de log all about de place, 
Till dey're fiUin' up mos' de room, 
An' say it's all right, for de storm las' night 
Was carry away de boom. 

Mebbe you see heem, de young loon bird, 

Wit' half of de shell hangin' on, 

Tak' hees firse slide to de water side, 

An' off on de lake he's gone. 

Out of de cradle dey're goin' sam' way 

On reever an' lake an' sea; 

For born to de trade, dat's how dey're made, 

De familee Laramie. 

An' de reever she's lyin' so handy dere 

On foot of de hill below, 

Dancin' along an' singin' de song 

As away to de sea she go. 

No wonder I never can lak dat song, 

For soon it is comin' w'en, 

Dey'll lissen de call, leetle Pierre an' Paul, 

An' w'ere will de moder be den? 

She '11 sit by de shore w 'en de evenin 's come, 
An ' spik to de reever too : 
**0 reever, you know how dey love you so, 
Since ever dey're seein' you. 



Material for Interpretation 1S7 

For sake of dat love bring de leetle boy borne 
Once more to de moder's knee." 
An' mebbe de prayer I be makin' dere 
"Will help bring dem back to me. 

Williodn H. Drummond, 



DE CIRQUE AT OL' STE. ANNE ^ 

I'm ride overe from Papineau, 
Premier-classe cirque for see, 
Dat's advertise for com' Ste. Anne 
An' mak' som' fun vid me. 
I'm tak' along my Julie gairl, 
I 'm gat her on de way, 
Ve're off for have une jolie tarn', 
A full all holiday. 

Ve see de animal so vil', 
Gran' lion in de cage. 
He's walk it op an' down aroun' 
Lak' he vas in a rage. 
Regardes monkey an' giraffe 
Yit neck so long an' slim, 
You's almos' need a telephone 
To say *' hello" at him. 

Beeg crowd was all de cage aroun^ 
For see w'at dey could see, 
Dey wan' to gat dere money's wort', 
Mos ' squeeze de life off me : 

*From **The Ballads of Bourbonnais, " by Wallace Bruc© Ams- 
bary. Copyright 1904. Used by special permission of the publishers, 
the Bobbs-Merrill Company. 



138 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

We see de zebra; den I t'ink 
Wil' man from Borneo, 
An' w'en we gat t'roo dat moch dere 
Into beeg tent we go. 



I'm buy pop-corn, also peanut, 
Donnay to my Julie; 
Ve's eat it all togedder op, 
Oh, my, we have une spree! 
Nex' t'ing ve sat in hippodrome, 
In deux grand reserve seat — 
I pay ten cent extray for dem; 
For view dey can't be beat. 

So moch for see dat's goin' on, 

I'm gat all mix op yet; 

It's all so good I can't mak' out 

Jus' w'ere ma eyes for set. 

Beeg man vas op on high trapeze, 

An ' pretty lady — Oo ! 

She's hang by teeth an' hair; by gar! 

T 'row kisses at you, too ! 

An' w'en my eyes light on dat gairl, 

Julie vas gat jealous; 

She mak' de lips go poutin', so 

Yid rage she nearly bus'; 

An' den I tak' her sof ' w'ite han' 

An' hold it gentle so, 

An' try to feex it up all h 'right, 

But fin ' it quite hard go. 



Material for Interpretation 139 

Julie vas feel moch better 

Ven dat lady go avay, 

She laugh vid me at funny clown, 

At all de t'ings he say. 

Mos' excentrique come elephan', 

Stan^ right out on his head, 

An' den he lay upon de groun', 

Preten' dat she is dead. 

De acrobat he's tumble roun' 

All overe de whole place ; 

De ring man shout an ' crack his whip 

At horses in de race. 

Den ve take in de concert grand, 

An' lak' dat might' vel, too, 

An' w'en ve see de peoples go, 

Ye know dat show was t'roo. 

An' when I'm takin' Julie home — 
Dat night de moon was shine — 
I'm mak' it to her mighty plain, 
I'm ax for her be mine; 
But Julie say she very 'fraid, 
I'm lof ' Ma'm'selle Trapeese, 
Because she grand an' t'row de kiss 
(I'm no like Julie tease). 

An' so I up an' tole her 

Dat I lof jus' her onlee. 

Her cheeks dey blush de colour rouge, 

Her eyes flash lak' de sea, 

Her lips was lak' de grand sunset, 

I can no' long' keep 'vay — 

I'm mak' de smack right on de spot. 

Oh, vat a holiday! 



140 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

I'm mak' de marry quite ver' soon, 
An' now you understan' 
Pourquoi I take my Julie gairl 
Pour cirque at 01' Ste. Anne. 

Wallace Bruce Amshary. 



THE WRECK OF THE ''JULIE PLANTS" 

(A Legend of Lac St. Pierre) 

On wan dark night on Lac St. Pierre, 

De win' she blow, blow, blow. 

An ' de crew of de wood scow ' ' Julie Plante ' ' 

Got scar't an' run below — 

For de win' she blow lak hurricane 

Bimeby she blow some more, 

An' de scow bus' up on Lac St. Pierre 

Wan arpent from de shore. 

De captinne walk on de fronte deck. 

An' walk de hin' deck too — 

He call de crew from up de hole 

He call de cook also. 

De cook she's name was Rosie, 

She come from Montreal, 

Was chambre maid on lumber barge, 

On de Grande Lachine Canal. 

De win' she blow from nor'-eas'-wes', — 
De sout' win' she blow too, 
W'en Rosie cry "Mon cher captinne, 
Mon cher, w'at I shall do?" 



Material for Interpretation 141 

Den de Captinne t^row de big ankerre, 
But still the scow she dreef, 
De crew he can't pass on de shore, 
Becos' he los' hees skeef. 

De night was dark lak' wan black cat, 

De wave mn high an' fas', 

Wen de captinne tak' de Rosie girl 

An' tie her to de mas'. 

Den he also tak' de life preserve. 

An' jomp off on de lak', 

An' say, "Good-bye, ma Rosie dear, 

I go drown for your sak'." 

Nex' morning very early 

'Bout ha 'f -pas' two — t'ree — four — 

De captinne — scow — an' de poor Rosie 

Was corpses on de shore, 

For de win' she blow lak' hurricane 

Bimeby she blow some more, 

An' de scow bus' up on Lac St. Pierre, 

Wan arpent from de shore. 

MORAL 

Now all good wood scow sailor man 

Tak' warning by dat storm 

An' go an' marry some nice French girl 

An' leev on wan beeg farm. 

De win' can blow lak hurricane 

An' s'pose she blow some more, 

You can't get drown on Lac St. Pierre 

So long you stay on shore. 

William H. Drummond. 



SECTION X 
SCANDINAVIAN 



SECTION X 
SCANDINAVIAN 

SHERIDAN'S RIDE 

Ef yu ban vise, and ay s'pose yu ban, 
You know 'bout Yeneral Sheridan; 
But maybe yu ant remember the day 
Ven he yump on horse, and den he say, 
**Ay'm yust about tventy-sax miles avay.'* 

Some rebel fallers ban start big row 
In Vinchester. Ay ant know just how, 
But ay tenk de yump on some Yankee guys, 
And trying to give dem gude black eyes. 
So Yeneral Sheridan hear dese guns, 
And drank some coffee and eat some buns, 
And tal dis har landlord, ^'Gudeby, Yack, 
Ay skol paying my bill ven ay com back ! ' ' 
Den he ride so fast that sune he say, 
**Yal, now ay ban saxteen miles avay!" 
Dese cannons ban roaring gude and loud — 
It van tough game for dis Yankee crowd ; 
And Lieutenant Olson, he tal his pal, 
*'Ay tank van ban due to run lak hal!'* 
So dey start to run, or else retreat — 
Dis ban noder name for gude cold feet; 
An' dey run so fast sum dey can go, 
Lak Russians luring dese Yaps, yu know, 
145 



146 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

* * Yee whiz ! ' ' say Sheridan. * ' Yump, old hoss ! 

Ay tenk my soldiers get double cross. 

Ay s'pose youre hoofs getting purty sore, 

But ve only got 'bout sax miles more ! " 

Val, Yeneral Sheridan meet his men, 

And he say: *'It's now yust half -past ten. 

Ay hope ay skol never go to heaven 

Ef dose Rebel Svedes ant licked by eleven. 

Yust turn 'round now in yure track ! 

Come on, yu fallers! Ye 're going back!'* 

And yu bet yure life they vent back, tn, 

And put gude crimp in dis Rebel crew. 

But soldiers ban careless sons of guns, 

And the yeneral never settled for buns. 

William F, Kirh 



GEORGE WASHINGTON 

Yeorge Yashington ban honest man. 
Yen dis har country first began, 
Yeorge ban a yen'ral, and yu bet 
Dese English fallers know it yet. 
Yen he ban small, his fader say, 
'*Ef yu skol breng in wood to-day, 
And feeding cow and chickens, tu, 
Ay skol yust blow myself on yu." 

Yal, sure enuff, ven Yeorge du chore, 
His fader hike for hardvare store, 
And buy gude hatchet, only it 
Ban second-hand a little bit. 
Dar ban on edge some little dents, 
It ban marked down to saxty cents. 



Material for Interpretation 147 

He pay sax cents to sharpen axe, 
And so it cose him saxty-sax. 
He tak it home to Yeorgie, tu, 
And say, '*Ay ant ban fuling you." 

Next day Yeorge tak his hatchet out, 
And start to rubber all about 
For someteng he can chop, yu see. 
And den he pipe nice cherry-tree. 
'*By Yudas! Dis ban soft!" say he. 
Ef dis har axe ban any gude, 
Dis tree skol sune ban kindling wood." 
So Yeorge give cherry-tree gude whack, 
And sveng dis axe lak lumberyack; 
And yust ven tree ban falling down. 
His fader coming back from town. 
Yeorge see old yent ban standing dar, 
Smoking gude fifteen-cent cigar ; 
And so he say: ^'Val, holy yee! 
Ay guess the yig ban op with me. 
Dear fader, Ay chopped down dis tree!" 

Dar ban gude moral har for youth: 
Yen lie ban fulish, tal the truth ! 

WiUiam F. Kirk, 

THE BAREFOOT BOY 

Blessings on yu, little man! 
Barefoot boy, ay tenk yu can 
Getting all yu lak, by yee! 
Yu ban gude enuff for me. 
Yu ant got so many clo'es, 
Dar ban freckles on yure nose, 



148 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

And ay guess yu're purty tuff, 
'Cause yu ask for chew of snuff. 
But, by yinks, ay lak yure face, 
Yu can passing any place. 

Barefoot boy, ef ay could du 
Yenuine po'try lak the kind 
Maester Vittier wrote for yu, 
Ay vould write; but never mind, 
Ay can tal yu vat ay know, 
Even ef dese vords ant flow 
Half so slick sum poet 's song. 
Anyhow, ay don't mean wrong. 
Ven ay see yu, little kid, 
Ay skol taking off my lid. 
Oder little boys ay see 
Ant look half so gude to me. 

Some of dem ban rich men's boys, 
Who ban having planty toys, 
Vearing nicest clo'es in town, 
Lak dis little Buster Brown. 
Don 't you care ! Ven dey grow up, 
And ban shining at pink tea, 
Drenking tea from china cup. 
You skol give dem loud tee-hee. 
You skol laugh at dis har mob 
Ven dey come to yu for yob. 
Barefoot boy, yu ant got cent; 
But ay tal yu dis, some day 
Yu got chance for president 
Ef dese woters com yure vay. 
Yust keep vistling all day long, 
Yust keep senging little song, 



Material for Interpretation 149 

And ef yu skol alvays love 
Some one who ban op above, 
Who ban making day and night, 
He skol fix yu out all right. 

William F. Kirk. 



THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH 

Miles Standish ban having a courtship 
Ven all of his fighting ban tru; 
Maester Longfaller tal me about it, 
And so ay skol tal it to yu. 
He say to his roommate, Yohn Alden : 
*'Yu know dis Priscilla, ay s'pose. 
Last week, ven ay try to get busy, 
Priscilla yust turn op her nose." 

Yohn Alden ban nervy young f aller. 
So Standish yust tal him : ' ' Old pal, 
Pleese boost me to dis har Priscilla, 
Yu know ay can't talk wery val. 
Please tal her ay ban a gude soldier, 
And say ay have money in bank. 
Ay'd du dis myself, but, ay tal yu, 
My manners in parlor ban rank." 

So Yohn go and call on Priscilla, 

And happen to finding her in ; 

He sit close beside her on sofa. 

And give her gude lots of his chin. 

' ' Miles Standish, ' ' he say, ' ' ban gude f aller, 

Hot stuff vith his pistol and knife; 

And so ay ban coming to tal yu 

He'd lak yu, Priscilla, for vife." 



150 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Priscilla, she listen to Alden, 

And den give him cute little venk, 

And say : ' ' Vy not speak for yureself , Yohn ? 

Miles Standish ban lobster, ay tenk.'' 

So Standish get double crossed planty; 

And dat's ynst vat Ay vant, by yee, 

Ef ever ay get any faller 

To doing my sparking for me ! 

WiUiam F, Eirk. 



ABOU SWEN ANSON 

Abou Swen Anson (he ban yoUy dog) 
Ban asleep von night so sound lak log, 
Ven all at vonce he tenk it sure ban day. 

* * Ay skol vake op now, ' ' Maester Anson say. 
But, ven he vake, it ant ban day at all. 
He see a gude big light right close to vail, 
And dar ban anyel faller with stub pen. 

* * Gude morning, maester anyel man, ' ' say Swen. 
*'Ay s'pose," he tal the anyel, "yu ban har 

To pay me visit. Skol yu have cigar ? ' ' 
The anyel shake his head, and Abou Swen 
Ask him: **Yal, Maester, vy yu com har den? 
Yat skol yu write in dis har book of gold f * ' 
The anyel say, ''AH fallers, young and old, 
Who go to church and prayer-meeting, tu ; 
But ay ant got a place in har for yu. * ' 
*'Ay s'pose," say Abou, *'yu got noder book 
For common lumberyacks vich never took 
Flyer at church or dis har Sunday-school, 
But yust try hard to keeping Golden Rule. 



Material for Interpretation 151 

Ef yu got dis book, Maester, put me in !" 
Den anyel look at Abou, and he grin. 
* * Abou, " he say, ' * shak hands. Yu, talk qvite free 
But, yiminy Christmas, yu look gude to me ! " 

William F. Kirk, 



STEALING A RIDE 

Tumping over crossings, 
Bumping over svitches, 
Till ay tenk dis enyine 
Going to fall in ditches; 
Hiding vith some cattle, 
Ay tenk 'bout saxty-eight; 
Yiminy! Dis ban yolly, — 
Stealing ride on freight. 

Ay ban yust tru treshing 
Op in Nort Dakota ; 
Now ay guess ay'm going 
Back to old Mansota. 
Now dis train ban stopping, 
'Bout sax hours to vait; 
Yiminy ! Dis ban yolly, — 
Stealing ride on freight. 

Ay skol stretch a little 
Yust to tak a sleep 
Den my head bump into 
Gude big fader sheep. 
Yee! His head ban harder 
Sum a china plate ; 
Dis ban yolly doings, — 
Stealing ride on freight. 



152 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Yumping over crossings, 
Bumping over svitches 
Till my side ban getting 
Saxty-seven stiches. 
Ay hear brakeman faller 
Say, ''Ynst ten hours late!** 
It ban hal, ay tal yu, 
Stealing ride on freight. 

William F. Kirh. 

AI TANK SO 

The naight bene fallin' purty fast, 
Ven troo the town a faller passed; 

A youth a holdin' in hees hand 
A leeten flag an' on it stand — 
''AitanksoT' 

That faller he bene lukin' sick, 

Jet he var yumpin' purty quick; 
An' laik from out a trombone rung 

The vords from that Swede faller 's thung — 
*'Ai tank so!" 

An' in dthe windows var the laight 
A shinin' thru so varm an' braight; 

High oop dhat hill them glaishers shone, 
But jet that faller hae bene groan — 
''Ai tank so!" 

'*Ju batter sthop," an ole man said, 
*'Kom back; Ai tank ju vill git ded; 

But jet he pooshin' raight along, 

An' he bene jellin' gude an strong — 
*'Ai tank so!" 



Material for Interpretation 153 

Hees voman opening vide her mout, 
Bene jellin' ''Yolin du skall luke out, 

Don't go oop dar" — he hearin' her voice, 
Bene say: ''Ju batter stop dhat noise — 
Ai tank so ! " 

A leeten fleeka she bene cry: 

'^Say, Yohn, how kan du git so high?'' 

An' Yohn say, lukin' kinda sveet, 

**Bene gittin' dar vid bode min feet — 
Ai tank so ! " 

An' dhen he jick along ju bat, 

A climb in ' oop thru snow an ' vet, 
Bene jellin', *'Ai kan ickka stop 

Till Ai bene yumpin' on the top — 
Ai tank so ! " 

Last mornin' Ai bene seein' him, 

Hees pants bene tore, hees eyes been dim ; 
Ai say tu Yohn, '*Vad skall du har. 
Now tal me, har du bene oop dar?" 
**Ai tank so!" 

J. B. Bahcock. 



SECTION XI 
lEISH 



SECTION XI 

IRISH 

(See also *' Modem Literature for Oral Interpretation,'' 
Johnson, pages 100, 103, 106, poetry.) 

THE WISE MAN 

Michael has a book-shelf 
Stacked amazin' high! 
Michael reads in sivin tongues 
Wid a rheumy eye! 

Faith, he's called a wise man, 
Readin' half the night; 
Delvin' into stoodjous things 
Betther kept from sight! 

Michael spends a Spring day 
Squintin' o'er a script — 
Michael niver kisst a gerri 
Warm and rosy-lipped! 

Faith, I've studied long, now, 
Wimmen and their ways — 
And judgin' where it's took me 
Thim were stoodjous days! 

Little rote I've learnt me, 
Little have I read — 
But I know a thing or two 
Not in Michael's head! 

Arthur Stringer, 
157 



158 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

THE CUT FINGER 

The Gossoon (weeping). 

It'sbleedin'! It's bleedin'! 

The Ould Woman (soothingly). 

An' shure me lad, 'tis bleedin'; 
But come, me hearty, laddy buck, be brave an' do not 
cry; 
A lad that's learnin' readin' sh'u'd be far beyant the 
heedin' 
Av a tiny bit o' finger cut that hurts a bit foreby. 
Ere ye come till wan an' twinty 
Ye '11 be havin' hurts in plinty. 
An' ye '11 learn a bit o' bleedin' doesn't mean ye 're goin' 
t' die. 

The Gossoon (crying). 

It's bleedin'! It's bleedin'! 

The Ould "Woman (comfortingly). 

An' shure me lad, 'tis bleedin'. 

But he 's me slashing buckeen, an ' he will not weep at all. 
A rag is all 'tis needin' fer t' sthop the whole proceedin' 
An' shure a bit o' rosy blood won't make me gossoon 
bawl. 
Fer 'tis but wan way av knowin' 
Ye have good red blood a-flowin' 

An' a-workin' all inside av ye t' make ye strong an' 
taU. 

The Gossoon (sobbing). 



Material for Interpretation 159 

It'sbleedinM It'sbleedinM 

The Ould Woman (lovingly). 

Aye, aye, me lad, 'tis bleedin', 

An' some foine day yer heart will bleed as bleeds the 
heart av me. 
The Saints ye will be pleadin' but 'tis little they'll be 
heedin '. 
Fer the world is full o' bleedin' hearts on either side 
the sea. 
An' I'd die t' aise the achin' 
When ye feel yer heart a-breakin', 

But, ah! the poor ould woman won't be there t' com- 
fort ye. 

Ellis Parker Butler. 

THE WISHING-BRIDGE 

'Tis years agone I saw herself, a warm and wishful day in 

June — 
A tourist lady, silken fine, and me the ragged wild gossoon. 
I ran beside her stumbling nag, a hard-mouthed creature, 

old and slow, 
The seven murdering Irish miles up through the Gap of 

old Dunloe. 

And him that rode foreninst herself, and edging nearer 

all the while, 
The fat-jowled, ugly old mudhoon (may devil take his 

oily smile!), 
I saw her turn her head aside the whiles he'd whisper in 

her ear ; 
I saw the stricken eyes of her, so lost and lone and filled 

with fear. 



160 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

But her old mother rode behind. She watched her like a 

pouncing hawk, 
And purred like any pussy-cat, and strained her ear to 

catch their talk. 
His words were fair (bad scram to him!), but, oh, her 

mouth that drooped forlorn ! 
Alone, for all the tourist folk, and lonesome as the moon of 

dawn. 



*'Now sorrow take your gold !" thinks I. ** What's jewels, 

lands, and satin clothes? 
If you 'd be King of France itself, 'tis like a pig would eat I 

a rose. ' ' 
The furze was gleaming in the sun, and when we climbed 

the topmostH^idge, 
* ' Miss dear, ' ' I points, ' ' St. Patrick 's Lake ! 'Tis there we 

cross the Wishing-bridge. " 

"The Wishing-bridge, " she says and smiles, and, oh, her 

smile was worse nor tears! 
*'Give him the no. Miss, dear," I says too low for any 

other ears; 
And then rose-red she went, the lamb, from her white neck 

until her hair. 
And "Funny Irish boy," she says, "how did you guess? 

How do you dare ? ' ' 

"Alannah, is it blind I am? Sure, he's an owl if you're 

a lass. 
Lay your left hand upon your heart, and all you wish 

shall come to pass. 



Material for Interpretation 161 

Not while the furze is gold/' I says, *' should young hearts 

ever mate with old, 
Or love be sold for pounds or pence — and, faith, the furze 

is always gold." 



She stayed her nag upon the bridge ; I saw her half-scared 

glances dart; 
She fetched a long and quivery breath; she laid her left 

hand on her heart. 
I saw her eyes the like of stars. **Ochone," thinks I, 

** sweet saints above! 
Who wouldn't sell his soul itself to be the man you're 

thinking of?" 



Then he caught up and whispered low, but **No" she gave 

him, loud and clear, 
Her head held up like any queen, and bold enough for all 

to hear; 
And she rode on, and paid no heed to the black rage behind 

her there — 
The purple, poisonous look he had, the mother fit to tear 

her hair. 



And then that furze was twice as gold, and like an angel's 

cloak the skies, 
For whiles she hummed deludering tunes, and whiles she 

dreamed with misty eyes. 
Too soon we reached Killarney's Lake; she paid me well, 

and went her ways, 
And, oh, the ligbc was on her face ! God save her kindly 

all her days ! 



162 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Traveling folk come year by year ; I guide and serve them 

as before. 
I tell them tales, I earn my hire, I see the likes of her no 

more. 
It warms me now, on winter nights, to mind her look that 

day in June — 
A tourist lady, silken fine, and me the ragged wild 

gossoon. 

Buth Comfort Mitchell. 

A NATURAL PHILOSOPHER 

Ladies and Gentlemen: I see so many foine-lookin' 
people sittin' before me that if you'll excuse me I'll be 
after takin ' a seat meself . You, don 't know me, I 'm think- 
ing, as some of yees 'ud be noddin' to me afore this. I'm 
a walkin' pedestrian, a travelin' philosopher. Terry 
'Mulligan's me name. I'm from Dublin, where many 
philosophers before me was raised and bred. Oh, phil- 
osophy is a foine study! I don't know anything about it, 
but it's a foine study! Before I kirn over I attended an 
important meetin' of philosophers in Dublin, and the dis- 
cussin' and talkin' you'd hear there about the world 'ud 
warm the very heart of Socrates or Aristotle himself. 
Well, there was a great many imminent and learned min 
there at the meetin', and I was there too, and while we 
was in the very thickest of a heated argument, one comes 
to me and says he, ''Do you know what we're talkin' 
about?" ''I do," says I, "but I'd not know could you 
understand or not." ''Well," says he, "we'll see," says 
he. Sure'n I didn't know anything, how to get out of 
it then, so I piled in, "for," says I to myself, "never let 
on to any one that you don't know anything, but make 



Material for Interpretation 163 

them believe that you do know all about it." So says I 
to him, takin' up me shillalah this way (holding a very 
crooked stick perpendicular), *'We'll take that for the 
straight line of the earth's equator" — how's that for 
gehography? (to the audience). Ah, that was straight till 
the other day I bent it in an argument. "Very good," 
says he. ''Well," says I, "now the sun rises in the east" 
(placing the disengaged hand at the eastern end of the 
stick). Well, he couldn't deny that. "And when he gets 
up he 

Darts his rosy beams 
Through the mornin' gleams." 

Do you moind the poetry there? (to the audience with a 
smile). "And he keeps on risin' and risin' till he reaches 
his meriden." "What's that?" says he. "His dinner- 
toime," says I; "sure'n that's my Latin for dinner-toime, 
and when he gets his dinner 

He sinks to rest 

Behind the glorious hills of the west. ' * 

Oh, begorra, there's more poetry! I fail it creepin' out all 
over me. "There," says I, well satisfied-with myself, "will 
that do for ye?" "You haven't got done with him yet," 
says he. "Done with him," says I kinder mad like; 
"what more do you want me to do with him? Didn't I 
bring him from the east to the west? What more do you 
want?" "Oh," says he, "you'll have to bring him back 
again to the east to rise next momin'." By Saint Patrick ! 
and wasn't I near betrayin' me ignorance. Sure'n I 
thought there was a large family of suns, and they rise 
one after the other. But I gathered meself quick, and, says 
I to him, "Well," says I, "I'm surprised you axed me 
that simple question. I thought any man 'ud know," says 



164 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

1, ''when the sun sinks to rest in the west — ^when the sun 
— " says I. ''You said that before," says he. "Well, I 
want to press it stronger upon you," says I. "When the 
sun sinks to rest in the east — no — west, why he — why he 
waits till it grows dark, and then he goes hack in the 
noight toime!" 

T. Maccabe, 

THE EVENING UP 

Whin Shamus O'Regen was sellin' me hay, 
And as sheueh-rank as iver was mowed. 
He'd seat his gerrl Moira, for such was his way, 
On the top av his thimble-rig load. 

And he 'd bring me his scrapin 's av thistle and whin, 
And I 'd take thim wid niver a word ; 
But I 'd hold for a breath, as the cart jolted in, 
Moira 's hand, that was soft as a bird. 

For Moira was wishtf ul and white as the May, 
And her eyes they would throuble your heart 
Till any ould bramble seemed special fine hay 
Wid her face at the top av the cart. 

Yet me horse and me cattle wint lean as a kite, 
Wid their feedin' on Shamus 's hay, 
And I'd figure me loss to a rick over-night — 
But, in faith, I had nothin' to say. 

For, Moira and me, we secretly met 

At the end av ould Ballybree Wall, 

And she gave me the word that soon made me forget 

I 'd iver been cheated at aU ! 

Arthur Stringer. 



Material for Interpretation 165 

DEOWNDED 

Tom Cassiby is drownded — 

That God may keep his soul. 

His body floats in the deep cold sea, 

An' only the herring and mackerel shoal 

Can tell where Tom may be. 

May Christ have pity on his soul, — 

An' that He'll pity me. 

Tom threatened that he'd bring me 

Strange shells from foreign sands, 

An' Chiney silk that would make a gown, 

With three ostrich feathers from foreign lands 

All creamy white and brown. 

My grief ! I stand with empty hands, 

An' him and all gone down. 

There's none can ever tell me 

How long he may have striven 

With the cold black waves that choked his life, 

An' him with the sins on his soul unshriven, 

In that his mortal strife. 

God's mercy on the unforgiven, 

And me his promised wife. 

My curse upon the ocean, 

My curse upon the wind! 

That's taken my heart's bright core on me, 

An ' made him a sepulchre none can find 

But them that's in the sea. 

Why would they leave the old behind 

And take the young and free ? 

W. M. Letts. 



166 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 



'^CUTTIN' RUSHES" 

Oh maybe it was yesterday, or fifty years ago ! 
Meself was risin' early on a day for cuttin' rashes, 
Walkin' up the Brabla' burn, still the sun was low. 
Now I 'd hear the burn run an' then I 'd hear the thrushes. 
Young, still young !— ran ' drenchin ' wet the grass, 
Wet the golden honeysuckle hangin' sweetly down; 
Here, lad, here ! will ye follow where I pass, 
An' find me cuttin' rushes on the mountain. 

Then was it only yesterday, or fifty years or so? 
Rippin' round the bog pools high among the heather, 
The hook it made me hand sore, I had to leave it go, 
'T was he that cut the rushes then for me to bind together. 
Come, dear, come! — an' back along the burn 
See the darlin' honeysuckle hangin' like a crown. 
Quick, one kiss, — sure, there ' some one at the turn ! 
**0h, we 're afther cuttin' rushes on the mountain." 

Yesterday, yesterday, or fifty years ago. . . . 

I waken out o ' dreams when I hear the summer thrushes. 

Oh, that 's the Brabla' bum, I can hear it sing an' flow, 

For all that 's fair, I 'd sooner see a bunch o ' green rushes 

Run, burn, run ! can ye mind when we were young ? 

The honeysuckle hangs above, the pool is dark an' brown: 

Sing, burn, sing ! can ye mind the song ye sung 

The day we cut the rushes on the mountain? 

Moira O'Neill. 



Material for Interpretation 167 



ON POLITICAL PARADES 

Mr. Hennessy, wearing a silver-painted stove-pipe hat 
and a silver cape and carrying a torch, came in, looking 
much the worse for wear. The hat was dented, the cape 
was torn, and there were marks on Mr. Hennessy 's face. 

*' Where ye been?" asked Mr. Dooley. 

*'Ma-archinV' said Mr. Hennessy. 

**Be th' looks iv ye, ye might have been th' line iv 
ma-arch f'r th' p'rade. "Who's been doin' things to ye?" 

''I had a currency debate with a man be th' name iv 
Joyce, a towny iv mine, in th' Audjioto-room Hotel," said 
Mr. Hennessy. ''Whin we got as far as th' price iv wheat 
in th' year iv th' big wind, we pushed each other. Give 
me a high glass of beer. I'm as dhry as a gravel roof." 

' ' Well, ' ' said Mr. Dooley, handing over the glass, ' ' ye 're 
an ol' man, and', as th' good book says, an ol' fool is th' 
worst yet. So I '11 not thry to con-vince ye iv th' error iv 
ye'er ways. But why anny citizen that has things in his 
head shud dhress himself up like a sandwich-man, put a 
torch on his shoulder, an' toddle over this blessid town with 
his poor round feet, is more than I can come at with all me 
intelligence. 

''I agree with ye perfectly, Hinnissy, that this here is a 
crisis in our histhry. On wan hand is arrayed th' Shylock 
an' th' pathrites, an' on th' other side th' pathrites an' 
th' arnychists. Th' Constitution must be upheld, th' 
gover'mint must be maintained, th' downthrodden farmer 
an' workin'man must get their rights. But do ye think, 
man alive, that ye 're goin' to do this be pour in' lard ile 
fr'm ye'er torch down ye'er spine or thrippin' over sthreet- 
car tracks like a dhray-horse thryin' to play circus? Is 



168 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

th' Constitution anny safer to-night because ye have to 
have ye'er leg amputated to get ye'er boot off, or because 
Joyce has made ye'er face look like th' back dure-step iv a 
German resthrant? 

''Jawnny Mack took me down in th' afternoon f'r to 
see th' monsthrous p'rade iv th' goold men. It was a 
gloryous spectacle. Th' sthreets were crowded with goold 
bugs an' women an' polismin an' ambulances. Th' procis- 
sion was miles an' miles long. Labour an' capital marched 
side be side, or annyhow labour was in its usual place, 
afther th' capitalists. It was a noble sight f'r to see th' 
employer iv workin'men marchin' ahead iv his band iv 
sturdy toilers that to rest thimsilves afther th' layboryous 
occupations iv th' week was reelin' undher banners that 
dhrilled a hole in their stomachs or carryin' two-be-four 
joists to show their allegiance to th' naytional honour. A 
man that has to shovel coke into a dhray or shove lumber 
out iv th' hole iv a barge or elevate his profession be 
carryin' a hod iv mort to th' top iv a laddher doesn't 
march with th' grace iv an antelope, be a blamed sight. 
To march well, a man's feet have to be mates; an', if he 
has two left feet both runnin' sideways, he ought to have 
intherference boots to keep him fr'm settin' fire to his 
knees. Whin a man walks as if he expected to lave a leg 
stuck in th' sthreet behind him, he has th' gait proper f'r 
half -past six o'clock th' avenin' befure pay-day. But 'tis 
not th' prance iv an American citizen makin' a gloryous 
spectacle iv himsilf. " 

* ' They were coerced, ' ' said Mr. Hennessy, gloomily. 

** Don't you believe it," replied the philosopher. *'It 
niver requires coercion to get a man to make a monkey 
iv himsilf in a prisidintial campaign. He does it as aisily 
as ye dhrink ye'er liquor, an' that 's too aisy. Don't ye 



Material for Interpretation 169 

believe thim lads with lumber ya-ards on their necks an' 
bar 'Is on their feet was co-erced. There wasn't wan iv 
thim that wuddn't give his week's wages f r a chanst to 
show how many times he cud thrip over a manhole in a 
mile. No more co-erced than ye are whin ye r-run down 
town an' make an ape iv ye'ersilf. I see ye marchin' 
away fr'm Finucane's with th' Willum J. O'Briens. Th' 
man nex' to ye had a banner declarin' that he was no 
slave. 'Twas th' la-ad Johnson. He was r-right. He is 
no slave, an' he won't be wan as long as people have 
washin' to give to his wife. Th' man I see ye takin' a 
dhrink with had a banner that said if th ' mines was opened 
th' mills would be opened, too. He meant be that, that if 
money was plenty enough f'r him to get some without 
wur-rukin', he 'd open a gin mill. An' ye ma-arrched 
afther Willum J. O'Brien, didn't ye? Well, he 's a good 
la-ad. If I didn't think so, I wudden't say it until I got 
me strength back or cud buy a gun. But did Willum J. 
O'Brien march? Not Willie. He was on horseback; an', 
Hinnissy, if dollars was made out iv Babbit metal, an' 
horses was worth sixty-sivin cints a dhrove, ye cudden't 
buy a crupper." 

''Well," said Mr. Hennessy, *'annyhow, I proved me 
hathred iv capital." 

' ' So ye did, ' ' said Mr. Dooley. ' ' So ye did. An ' capital 
this afthernoon showed its hatred iv ye. Ye ought to 
match blisters to see which hates th' worst. Capital is at 
home now with his gams in a tub iv hot wather ; an ' whin 
he comes down to-morrah to oppriss labour an' square his 
protisted notes, he '11 have to go on all fours. As f'r you, 
Hinnissy, if 'twill aise ye anny, ye can hang f'r a few 
minyits fr'm th' gas fixtures. Did th' good Dimmycrats 
have a p'rade?" 



170 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

''No/' said Mr. Hennessy. '*But they rayviewed th' 
day procission fr'm th' Panuner House. Both iv thim | 
was on th' stand." 

F, P. Dunne, 

THE CHOICE 

Saint Joseph, let you send me a comrade true and kind, 
For the one I 'm after seeking, it beats the world to find. 

There 's Christy Shee 's a decent lad, but he 's too lank and 

tall; 
And Shaneen Burke will never do, for he 's a foot too small. 

John Heffeman has gold enough, but sure he 'd have me bet 
With talkin' of the wife that died a year before we met. 

Young Pat Delaney suits my mind, but he 's a thrifle wild ; 
And Tim I 've known too well itself from since I was a 
child. 

Old Dennis Morrissey has pigs, and cattle in the byre, 
But, someways, I don't fancy him the far side o' the fire. 

I 'd have Saint Joseph choose me a comrade rich and 

kind — 
And if it 's Terry Sullivan — ^maybe I might n 't mind. 

W. M. Letts. 

CHILDER' 

They're longin' for a wee lad 
Up in Tullagh Hail- 
Where niver wanst a cradle was, 
An' niver child at all! 



Material for Interpretation 171 

They're shpeakin' all in whispers, 
They're threadin' on their toes, 
An' tin-and-twinty sewin '-gerrls 
Is thrimmin' satin clothes! 

A deal av fuss an' feathers 
Gintry makes, aroo, 
"Wid all their frightened wimmen-folk 
When wan to wan is two I 

They've twinty-hundred acres 
Hid be jealous wall — 
Yet niver throd a little foot 
Thro' lonely Tullagh HaU! 

But here beneath the ould thatch 
Ohilder' come so fast 
In faith, we put the first t'bed 
For room to rock the last ! 

Arthur Stringer. 

BIUDS 

Sure maybe ye've heard the storm-thrush 

Whistlin' bould in March, 

Before there' a primrose peepin' out. 

Or a wee red cone on the larch ; 

Whistlin' the sun to come out o' the cloud, 

An' the wind to come over the sea, 

But for all he can whistle so clear an' loud, 

He's never the bird for me. 

Sure maybe ye've seen the song-thrush 
After an April rain 

Slip from in-undher the drippin' leaves, 
Wishful to sing again ; 



172 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

An ' low wi ' love wlien lie 's near the nest, 

An' loud from the top o' the tree, 

But for all he can flutter the heart in your breast, 

He 's never the bird for me. 

Sure maybe yeVe heard the red-breast 
Singin' his lone on a thorn, 
Mindin' himself o^ the dear days lost, 
Brave wid his heart forlorn. 
The time is in dark November, 
An' no spring hopes has he: 
*' Remember," he sings, "remember!" 
Ay, than's the wee bird for me. 

Mmra O^Neill. 



KING 'TOOLE AND HIS GOOSE 

*'By Gor, I thought all the world, far and near, heered 
o' King 'Toole — well, well, but the darkness of mankind 
is ontellible! Well, sir, you must know, as you didn't 
hear it afore, that there was a king called King O 'Toole, 
who was a fine ould king in the ould ancient times, long 
ago; and it was him that owned the churches in the early 
days. The king, you see, was the right sort; he was the 
rale boy, and loved sport as he loved his life, and huntin' 
in partic'lar; and from the risin' of the sun, up he got, 
and away he wint over the mountains bey ant afther the 
deer; and the fine times them woor. 

''Well, it was all mighty good, as long as the king had 
his health; but, you see, in coorse of time the king grew 
ould, by raison he was stiff in his limbs, and when he got 
sthriken in years, his heart failed him, and he was lost 
intirely for want o ' divarshin, bekase he could n 't go a 



Material for Interpretation 173 

huntin' no longer; and, by dad, the poor king was obleeged 
at last for to get a goose to divart him. Oh, you may 
laugh, if you like, but it 's truth I 'm tellin' you; and 
they way the goose divarted him was this-a-way: You 
see, the goose used for to swim across the lake, and go 
divin for throut, and coteh fish on a Friday for the king, 
and flew every other day about the lake, divartin' the 
poor king. All went on mighty well, antil, by dad, the 
goose got sthriken in years like her master, and couldn't 
divart him no longer, and then it was that the poor king 
was lost complate. The king was walkin' one mornin' by 
the edge of the lake, lamentin' his cruel fate, and thinkin' 
o' drownin' himself, that could get no divarshun in life, 
when all of a suddint, turnin' round the corner beyant, 
who should he meet but a might dacent young man comin' 
up to him. 

* * ' God save you, ' says the king to the young man. 

*' 'God save you kindly, King 'Toole,' says the young 
man. 'Thrue for you,' says the king. 'I am King 
'Toole,' says he, 'prince and plennypennytinchery o' 
these parts,' says he; 'but how kem ye to know that?' 
says he. 'Oh, never mind,' says Saint Kavin. 

"You see it was Saint Kavin, sure enough — the saint 
himself in disguise, and nobody else. 'Oh, never mind,* 
says he, 'I know more than that. May I make bowld to 
ax how is your goose. King 'Toole?' says he. 'Bluran- 
agers, how kem ye to know about my goose?' says the 
king. ' Oh, no matther ; I was given to understand it, says 
Saint Kavin. After some more talk the king says, 'What 
are you?' 'I 'm an honest man,' says Saint Kavin. 'Well, 
honest man, ' says the king, ' and how is it you make your 
money so aisy ? ' 'By makin ' ould things as good as new, ' 
says Saint Kavin. ' Is it a tinker you are ? ' says the king. 



174 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

*No,' says the saint; *I 'm no tinker by thrade, King 
O 'Toole; I Ve a better thrade than a tinker,' says he — 
*what would you say,' says he, 'if I made your ould goose 
as good as new?' 

**My dear, at the word o' making his goose as good as 
new, you 'd think the poor ould king's eyes was ready to 
jump out iv his head. With that the king whistled, and 
down kem the poor goose, all as one as a hound, waddlin' 
up to the poor cripple, her masther, and as like him as 
two pays. The minute the saint clapt his eyes on the 
goose, 'I '11 do the job for you,' says he, 'King 'Toole.' 
*By Jaminee!' says King 'Toole, 'if you do, bud I '11 say 
you 're the cleverest fellow in the sivin parishes.' 'Oh, 
by dad,' says Saint Kavin, 'you must say more nor that — 
my horn 's not so soft all out,' says he, 'as to repair your 
ould goose for nothin'; what '11 you gi' me if I do the job 
for you? — that 's the chat,' says Saint Kavin, 'I '11 give 
you whatever you ax,' says the king; 'isn't that fair?' 
'Divil a fairer,' says the saint; 'that 's the way to do 
business. Now,' says he, 'this is the bargain I '11 make 
with you. King 'Toole: Will you gi' me all the ground 
the goose flies over, the first offer, afther I make her as 
good as new?' 'I will,' says the king. 'You won't go 
back on your word?' says Saint Kavin. 'Honor bright!' 
says King 'Toole, howldin' out his fist. 'Honor bright,' 
says Saint Kavin, back again, ' it 's a bargain. Come here ! ' 
says he to the poor ould goose — ' come here, you unf ort 'nate 
ould cripple, and it 's I that '11 make you the sportin' 
bird.' With that, my dear, he took up the goose by the 
two wings — 'Criss o' my crass an you,' says he, markin' 
her to grace with the blessed sign at the same minute — and 
throwin' her up in the air, 'whew,' says he, just givin' 
her a blast to help her; and with that, my jewel, &he tuk 



Material for Interpretation 175 

to her heels, flyin' like one o' the aigles themselves, and 
cuttin* as many capers as a swallow before a shower of 
rain. 

''Well, my dear, it was a beautiful sight to see the king 
standin' with his mouth open, lookin' at his poor ould 
goose flyin' as light as a lark, and betther nor ever she 
was: and when she lit at his fut, patted her an the head, 
and *Ma vourneen/ says he, 'but you are the darlint o' the 
world.' 'And what do you say to me,' says Saint Kavin, 
'for makin' her the like?' 'By gor,' says the king, 'I say 
nothin' bates the art o' man, barrin' the bees.' 'And do 
you say no more nor that?' says Saint Kavin. 'And that 
I 'm behoulden to you,' says the king. 'But will you gi'e 
me all the ground the goose flew over?' says Saint Kavin. 
*I will,' says King 'Toole, 'and your welkim to it,' says 
he, 'though it 's the last acre I have to give.' 'But you '11 
keep your word thrue?' says the saint. 'As thrue as the 
sun,' says the king. 'It 's well for you. King O 'Toole, 
that you said that word, ' says he ; ' for if you did n 't say 
that word, the devil receave the hit o' your goose id ever 
fly again.' When the king was as good as his word. Saint 
Kavin was placed with him, and thin it was that he made 
himself known to the king. 'And,' says he, 'King 'Toole, 
you 're a decent man, for I only kem here to thry you. 
You don't know me,' says he, 'bekase I 'm disguised.' 
'Musha! thin,' says the king, 'who are you?' 'I 'm Saint 
Kavin,' said the saint, blessin' himself. 'Oh, queen iv 
heaven ! ' says the king, makin ' the sign o ' the crass betune 
his eyes, and fallin' down on his knees before the saint; 
'it is the great Saint Kavin,' says he 'that I 've been dis- 
coorsin' all this time without known' it,' says he, 'all as 
one as if he was a lump iv a gossoon? — and so you 're a 
saint?' says the king. 'I am,' says Saint Kavin. 'By gor, 



176 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

I thought I was only talking to a dacent boy/ says the 
king. 'Well, you know the differ now,' says the saint. 
'I 'm Saint Kavin,' says he, 'the greatest of all the saints.' 
And so the king had his goose as good as new, to divart 
him as long as he lived : and the saint supported him af ther 
he kem into his property, as I tould you, until the day iv 
his death — and that was soon afther; for the poor goose 
thought he was ketehin' a throut one Friday; but, my 
jewel, it was a mistake he made — and instead of a throut, 
it was a thievin' horse-eel; and by gor, instead iv the 
goose killin' a throut for the king's supper—by dad, the 
eel killed the king's goose — and small blame to him; but 
he didn't ate her, bekase he darn't ate what Saint Kavin 
laid his blessed hands on. ' ' 

Samuel Lover. 

THE FAIR 

The pick o' seven counties, so they 're tellin' me, was there, 
Horses racin' on the track and fiddles on the green, 
Flyin ' flags and blowin ' horns and all that makes a fair, 
I 'm hearin' that the like of it was something never seen. 

So it is they 're tellin me, 
Girl dear, it may be true — 
I only know the bonnet strings 
Beneath your chin were blue. 

I 'm hearin' that the cattle came that thick they stood in 

rows. 
And Doolan's Timmy caught the pig and Terry climbed 

the pole, 
They 're tellin' me they showed the cream of everything 

that grows, 
And never man had eyes enough for takin ' in the whole. 



Material for Interpretation 177 

So it is they 're tellin' me, 
Girl dear, it may be so, 
I only know your little gown 
Was whiter than the snow. 

They 're tellin' me the gentry came twenty miles about, 
And him that came from Ballinsloe sang limp in' Jamesey 

down. 
And 'twas Himself, no less, stood by to give the prizes out, 
They 're tellin' me you 'd hear the noise from here to 

Dublin town. 

So it is they 're tellin' me, 
Girl dear, the same may be, 
I only know that comin' home 
You gave your word to me. 

Theodcsid Garrison. 



SAYS SHE 

My Granny she often says to me. 
Says she, "You 're terrible bold, 
It 's you have a right to mend your ways 
Before you '11 ever grow old," 

Says she. 
''Before you '11 ever grow old. 
For it 's steadfast now that you ought to be, 
An' you going on sixteen," says she. 
''What '11 you do when you 're old like me? 
What '11 you do?" says she. 

"What wiU I do when I 'm old?" says I. 
"Och Musha, I '11 say my prayers, 



178 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

I '11 wear a net an' a black lace cap 
To cover my silver hairs, ' ' 

Says I. 
* ' To cover my silver hairs. 
When I am as old as Kate Kearney's cat 
I '11 sell my dress and featherdy hat, 
An' buy an old bedgown the like o' that, 
The very like o' that." 



My Granny she sighs and says to me, 

* * The years fly terrible fast, 

The girls they laugh' an talk with the boys. 
But they all grow old at last," 
Says she. 

* * They all grow old at last. 

At Epiphany cocks may skip," says she, 
**But kilt by Easter they 're like to be. 
By the Hokey ! you '11 grow as old as me, 
As weak an' old," says she. 



Maybe you tell me no lie," says I, 

**But I 've time before me yet. 

There 's time to dance and there 's time to sing, 

So why would I need to fret?" 

Says I. 
*'So why would I need to fret? 
Old age may lie at the foot of the hill, 
'Twixt hoppin' and trottin' we '11 get there stilL 
Why would n 't we dance while we have the will, 
Dance while we have the will?" 

W, M, Letts, 



Material for Interpretation 179 

I 'LL NIVER GO HOME AGAIN 

I 'lIj niver go home again, 
Home to the ould sad hills, 
Home through the ould soft rain, 
Where the curfew calls and thrills! 

For I thought to find the ould wee house, 
Wid the moss along the wall! 
And I thought to hear the crackle-grouse, 
And the brae-birds call! 

And I sez, I 11 find the glad wee burn, 
And the bracken in the glen, 
And the fairy-thorn beyont the turn, 
And the same ould men ! 

But the ways I 'd loved and walked, avick, 
Were no more home to me, 
Wid their sthreets and turns av starin' brick, 
And no ould face to see ! 

And the ould glad ways I 'd helt in mind, 
Loike the home av Moira Bawn, 
And the ould green turns I 'd dreamt to find. 
They all were lost and gone ! 

And the white shebeen beside the leap 
Where the racin' wathers swirled 
And the burnin ' kelp-shmoke used to creep — 
'T is now another world ! 

And all thrampled out long years ago 
By feet I 've niver seen 
Are the fairy-rings that used to show 
Along the low boreen! 



180 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

And the bairns that romped by TuUagh Bum 
Whin they saw me sthopped their play — 
Through a mist av tears I tried to turn 
And ghost-like creep away! 

And I '11 niver go home again! 
Home to the ould lost years, 
Home where the soft warm rain 
Drifts loike the drip av tears! 

Arthur Stringer. 

ON CHARITY 

''Br-r-r!'' cried Mr. McKenna, entering stiffly and 
spreading his hands over the pot-bellied stove. **It 's 
cold." 

''Where?'' asked Mr. Dooley. *'Not here.'' 

*'It 's cold outside," said Mr. McKenna. **It was ten 
below at Shannahan's grocery when I went by, and the 
wind blowing like all possessed. Lord love us, but I pity 
them that 's got to be out to-night. ' ' 

"Save ye'er pity," said Mr. Dooley comfortably. **It 
ain 't cowld in here. There 's frost on th ' window, 't is 
thrue for ye; an' th' wheels has been singin' th' livelong 
day. But what 's that to us? Here I am, and there ye 
are, th' stove between us an' th' kettle hummin'. In a 
minyit it '11 bile, an' thin I '11 give ye a taste iv what '11 
make a king iv ye. 

''Well, tubby sure, 'tis thryin' to be dhrivin' a coal 
wagon or a sthreet-car; but 'tis all in a lifetime. Th' 
diff'rence between me an' th' man that sets up in th' seat 
thumpin' his chest with his hands is no more thin th' 
diff'rence between him an' th' poor diwle that walks 
along behind th' wagon with his shovel on his shoulder, 



Material for Interpretation 181 

an' 11 thank th' saints f r th' first chanst to put tin 
ton iv ha-ard coal into a cellar f 'r a quarther iv a dollar. 
Th ' lad afoot invies th ' dhriver, an ' th ' dhriver invies me ; 
an' I might invy big Cleveland if it wasn't f 'r th' hivinly 
smell iv this here noggin. An' who does Cleveland invy? 
Sure, it 'd be sacreliege f 'r me to say. 

* ' Me ol ' father, who was as full iv sayin 's as an almanac, 
used to sink his spoon into th' stirabout, an' say, 'Well, 
lads, this ain't bacon an' greens an' porther; but it '11 be 
anny thing ye like iv ye '11 on'y think iv th' Cassidys.' Th' 
Cassidys was th' poorest fam'ly in th' parish. They 
waked th' oldest son in small beer, an' was little thought 
of. Did me father iver ask thim in to share th ' stirabout ? 
Not him. An' he was the kindest man in th' wurruld. 
He had a heart in him as big as a lump iv tuft, but 
he 'd say, *Whin ye grow up, take no wan's sorrows to 
ye'ersilf,' he says. ' 'T is th' wise man that goes through 
life thinkin' iv himself, fills his own stomach, an' takes 
away what he can 't ate in his pocket. ' An ' he was r-right, 
Jawn. We have throubles enough of our own. Th' 
wurruld goes on just th' same, an' ye can find fifty men 
to say th' lit'ny f 'r ye to wan that '11 give ye what '11 
relieve a fastin' spit. Th' dead ar-re always pop'lar. I 
knowed a society wanst to vote a monyment to a man an' 
refuse to help his fam'ly, all in wan night. 'T is cowld 
outside th' dure, ye say, but 'tis war-rum in here; as' 
I 'm gettin' in me ol' age to think that the diff'rence 
between hivin an' hell is no broader " 

Mr. Dooley's remarks were cut short by a cry from the 
back room. It was unmistakably a baby's cry. Mr. 
McKenna turned suddenly in amazement as Mr. Dooley 
bolted. 

''Well, in the name of the saints, what 's all this?" he 



182 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

cried, following his friend into tlie back room. He found 
the philosopher, with an expression of the utmost sternness, 
sitting on the side of his bed, with a little girl of two or 
three in his arms. The philosopher was singing : — 

^'Ar-rah rack-a-bye-babby, on th' three top: 
Whin th' wind blo-ows, th' cradle uU r-rock; 
An', a-wMn th' bough breaks, th' cradle uU fa-a-a-11, 
An' a-down nil come babby, eradle, an' all." 

Then he sang : — 

* ' In th ' town iv Kilkinny there du-wilt a fair ma-aid, 
In th' town iv Kilkinny there du-wilt a fair ma-aid, 
She had cheeks like th' roses, and hair iv th' same. 
An' a mouth like ripe strawburries burrid in crame.*' 

He rocked the child to and fro, and its crying ceased 
while he sang : — 

''Chip, chip, a little horse; 
Chip, chip, again, sir. 
How many miles to Dublin? 
Threescure an' tin, sir." 

The little girl went to sleep on Mr. Dooley's white apron. 
He lifted her tenderly, and carried her over to his bed. 
Then he tiptoed out with an apprehensive face, and whis- 
pered: ''It 's Jawn Donahue's kid that wandhered away 
fr'm home, an' went to sleep on me dure-step. I sint th' 
Dorsey boy to tell th' mother, but he 's a long time gone. 
Do ye run over, Jawn, an' lave thim know." 

F, P. Dunne. 



OULD DOCTOR LiA'GINN 

The ould doctor had only wan failin', 
It stayed wid him, faith, till he died ; 
And that was the habit av wearin' 
His darby a thrifle wan side! 



Material for Interpretation 183 

And twenty times daily 't was straightened, 

But try as lie would for a year, 

Not thinkin', lie 'd give it a teether 

A thrifle down over wan ear ! 

It sat him lop-sided and aisy; 
It troubled his kith and his kin — 
But och, 't was the only thing crooked 
About our ould Doctor Ma'Ginn! 

And now that he 's gone to his Glory — 
Excuse me, a bit av a tear — 
Here 's twenty to wan that his halo 
Is slantin ' down over his ear ! 

Arthur Stringer, 



A DONEGAL FAIRY 

Ay, it 's a bad thing to displeasure the gentry, sure 
enough — ^they can be unfriendly if they 're angered, an' 
they can be the very best o' gude neighbors if they 're 
treated kindly. 

My mother's sister was her lone in the house one day, 
wi' a' big pot o' water boiling on the fire, and ane o' the 
wee folk fell down the chimney, and slipped wi' his leg 
in the hot water. 

He let a terrible squeal out o' him, an' in a minute the 
house was full o' wee crathurs pulling him out o' the pot, 
an' carrying him across the floor. 

"Did she scald you?" my aunt heard them saying to 
him. 

"Na, na, it was myseP scalded my ainsel'," quoth the 
wee fellow. 



184 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

*^A weel, a weel," says they. *'If it was your ainsel^ 
scalded yoursel', we '11 say nothing, but if she had scalded 
you, we 'd ha' made her pay. 

Letitia MacLintock. 



TOMORROW 

I. Her, that yer Honor was spakin' to? Whin, yer 

Honor? last year — 
Standin' here be the bridge, when last yer Honor 

was here ? 
An' yer Honer ye gev her the top of the momin', 

"Tomorra," says she. 
What did they call her, yer Honor? They called 

her Molly Magee. . . . 

II. Shure, an ' meself renumbers wan night comin ' down 

be the sthrame, 
An' it seems to me now like a bit of histher-day in 

a dhrame — 
Here where yer Honor seen her — there was but a 

slip of a moon, 
But I heard thim — Molly Magee wid her batchelor, 

Danny O'Roon — 
*'You 've been takin' a dhrop o' the crathur," an' 

Danny says, "Troth, an' I been 
Dhrinkin' yer health wid Shamus O'Shea at Katty's 

shebeen ; 
But I must be lavin' ye soon." *'Ochone are ye 

goin' away?" 
'*Goin' to cut the Sassenach whate," he says, *'Over 

the say" — 



Material for Interpretation 185 

**An' whin will ye meet me aginV an' I hard him 

*' Molly asthore, 
I'll meet you agin tomorra/' says he, ''be the chapel- 
door." 
* * An ' whin are ye goin ' to lave me ? " ' ' ' Monday 

mornin'/' says hej 
**An shure thin ye 11 meet me tomorra?" **To- 

morra, tomorra, Machree!" 
Thin Molly's onld mother, yer Honor, that had no 

likin' for Dan, 
Call'd from her cabin an' tould her to come away 

from the man. 
An' Molly Magee kem flyin' acrass me, as light as 

a lark. 
An' Dan stood there for a minute, an' thin wint into 

the dark. 
But wirrah ! the storm that night — the tundher, an ' 

rain that fell. 
An' the sthrames runnin' down at the back o' the 

glin 'ud 'a dhrownded Hell. 

III. But airth was at pace nixth mornin', an' Hiven in 

its glory smiled. 
As the Holy Mother o' Glory that smiles at her 

sleepin' child — 
Ethen — she stept on the chapel-green, an' she turn'd 

herself roun' 
Wid a diamond dhrop in her eye, for Danny was 

not to be foun', 
An' many 's the time that I watch 'd her at mass 

lettin' down the tear. 
For the Divil a Danny was there, yer Honor, for 

forty year. 



186 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

IV. Och, Molly Magee, wid the red o' the rose an* the 

white o' the May, 
An' yer hair as black as the night, an' yer eyes as 

bright as the day! . . . 
An' sorra the queen wid her scepter in sich an 

illigant han'. 
An' the fall of yer foot in the dance was as light 

as snow an the Ian'. . . . 

V. An' the boys wor about her agin whin Dan didn't 

come to the fore, 
An' Shamus along wid the rest, but she put thim 

all to the door. 
An', afther, I thried her meself av the bird 'ud 

come to me call, 
But Molly, begorrah, 'ud listhen to naither at all, 

at all. . . . 

YI. An' afther her paarints had inter 'd glory, an' both 

in wan day, 
She began to spake to herself, the crathur, an' 

whispher, an' say 
**Tomorra, Tomorra!" an' Father Molowny he tuk 

her in han', 
*' Molly, you 're manin'," he says, *'me dear, av I 

undherstan ', 
That ye '11 meet your paarints agin an' yer Danny 

O'Roon afore God 
Wid his blessed Marthyrs an' Saints"; an' she gev 

him a frindly nod, 
** Tomorra, Tomorra," she says, an' she didn't 

intind to desave, 
But her wits wor dead, an' her hair was as white 

as the snow an a grave. 



Material for Interpretation 187 

VII. Arrah now, here last month they wor diggin' the 

bog, an' they foun' 
Dhrownded in black bog-wather a corp lyin' undher 

groun'. . . . 
An' they laid this body they foun' an the grass 
Be the chapel-door, an' the people 'ud see it that 

wint into mass^ — 
But a frish gineration had riz, an' most of the ould 

was few, 
An' I didn't know him meself, an' none of the 

parish knew. 

YIII. But Molly kem limpin' up wid her stick, she was 

lamed iv a knee. 
Thin a slip of a gossoon call'd, *'Div ye know him, 

Molly Magee?" 
An' she stood up straight as the Queen of the world 

— she lifted her head — 
*'He said he would meet me tomorra!" an' dhropt 

down dead an the dead. 

IX. Och, Molly, we thought, machree, ye would start 

back agin into life, 
Whin we laid yez, aich be aich, at yer wake like 

husban' an' wife, 
Sorra the dhry eye thin but was wet for the frinds 

that was gone ! 
Sorra the silent throat but we hard it cryin' 

'^Ochone!" 
An' Shamus O'Shea that has now ten childr' han'- 

some an' tall. 
Him an' his childer wor keenin' as if he had lost 

thim all. 



188 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

X. Thin his Eiverence buried thim both in wan grave 
be the dead boor-tree, 
The young man Danny 'Roon wid his ould woman, j 

Molly Magee. . . . 
An' now that I tould yer Honor whatever I hard 

an' seen, 
Yer Honor 11 give me a thrifle to dhrink yer health 
in potheen. 

Alfred Tennyson, 



CLOIDNA OF THE ISLE 

I HAD me bit av hay-land callin' for the scythe, 

When who should hurry hillward, wishtful-loike, and 

blithe. 
But Cloidna av the Isle, that gerrl av pink an ' white, 
Wid eyes av Irish blue an' hair as black as night! . . . 
I had me hay to mow an' gather into rick, 
But when ye talk wid handsome gerrls, och, time goes 

quick ! 

*'Aroo," says she to me, wid her slow and meltin' shmile, 
' * I 'm lookin ' for a man, this many an ' many a mile ! 
*'Me hay 's all ripe," says she; ^'whativer will I do 
Widout a bit av help?" . . . Bedad, her eye was blue! 

Och, what 's the use av moilin' till your life 's all done! 
An ' what 's a rick or two, beside a bit av fun ! 
I swung me singin ' scythe thro ' Cloidna 's fields o ' hay, 
An' wid it swung me singin' heart each livelong day, 
An' on me, iv'ry swath, she shmiled wid tender eyes . . . 
Faith, when you 're wid a handsome woman, how time 
flies! 

Arthur Stringer. . 



Material for Interpretation 189 

CORRYMEELA 

Over here in England I 'm helpin ' wi ' the hay, 
An' I wisht I was in Ireland the livelong day ; 
"Weary on the English hay, an' sorra take the wheat! 
Och! Corrymeela an' the blue sky over it. 

There' a deep dumb river flowin' by beyont the heavy trees, 
This livin' air is moithered wi' the bummin' o' the bees; 
I wisht I 'd hear the Claddagh burn go runnin' through 

the heat 
Past Corrymeela, wi' the blue sky over it. 

The people that 's in England is richer nor the Jews, 
There' not the smallest young gossoon but thravels in his 

shoes ! 
I 'd give the pipe between me teeth to see a barefut child, 
Och! Corrymeela an' the low south wind. 

Here 's hands so full o' money an' hearts so full o' care, 
By the luck o ' love ! I 'd still go light for all I did go bare. 
**God save me, colleen dhas," I said: the girl she thought 

me wild. 
Far Corrymeela, an' the low south wind. 

D'ye mind me now, the song at night is mortial hard to 

raise, 
The girls are heavy goin' here, the boys are ill to plase; 
When one'st I 'm out this workin' hive, 't is I '11 be back 

again — 
Ay, Corrymeela, in the same soft rain. 



190 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

The puff o' smoke from one ould roof before an English 

town! 
For a shangh wid Andy Feelan here I 'd give a silver 

crown, 
For a curl o ' hair like Mollie 's ye '11 ask the like in vain, 
Sweet Corrymeela, an' the same soft rain. 

Mcnra O'Neill. 

NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTION 

'T IS a bad spell iv weather we 're havin'? Faith, it is, 
or else we mind it more thin we did. I can't remimber 
wan day f r 'm another. Whin I was young, I niver thought 
iv rain or snow, cold or heat. But now th' heat stings, an' 
th' cold wrenches me bones ; an', if I go out in th' rain with 
less on me thin a ton iv rubber, I '11 pay dear f 'r it in 
achin' j'ints, so I will. That 's what old age means; an' 
now another year has been put on to what we had before, 
an' we're expected to be gay. **Ring out th' old," says a 
guy at th' Brothers' School. ^'Ring out th' old, ring in 
th' new," he says. ''Ring out th' false, ring in th' 
thrue," says he. It 's a pretty sintimint, but how ar-re 
we goin' to do it? Nawthin 'd please me betther thin to 
turn me back on th' wicked an' ingloryous past, rayform 
me life, an' live at peace with th' wurruld to th' end iv 
me days. But how th' divvle can I do it? As th' fellow 
says, "Can th' leopard change his spots," or can't he? 

You know Dorsey, iv course, th' cross-eyed May-o man 
that come to this counthry about wan day in advance iv a 
warrant f 'r sheep-stealin ' ? Ye know what he done to me, 
tellin' people I was caught in me cellar poorin' wather 
into a bar'l? Well, last night says I to mesilf, thinkin' iv 
Dorsey, I says: "I swear that henceforth I '11 keep me 
temper with me fellow-men. I 'U not let anger or jealousy 



Material for Interpretation 191 

get th' betther iv me," I says. ^'I '11 lave off all me old 
feuds ; an', if I meet me inimy goin' down th' sthreet, I '11 
go np an' shake him be th' band, if I 'm sure he has n't a 
brick in th' other hand." Oh, I was mighty eomplimen- 
thry to mesilf. I set be th' stove dhrinkin' hot wans, an' 
ivry wan I dhrunk made me more iv a pote. 'T is th' way 
with th' stuff. Whin I 'm in dhrink, I have manny a fine 
thought ; an ' if I was n 't too comfortable to go an ' look 
f 'r th' ink-bottle, I cud write pomes that 'd make Shake- 
speare an' Mike Scanlan think they were wur-rkin' on a 
dredge. "Why," says I, ''carry into th' new year th' 
hathreds iv th' old?" I says. "Let th' dead past bury its 
dead, ' ' says I. ' ' Tur-rn ye 'er lamps up to th ' blue sky, ' ' 
I says. (It was rainin' like th' diwle, an' th' hour was 
midnight; but I give no heed to that, bein' comfortable 
with th' hot wans.) An' I wint to th' dure, an', whin 
Mike Duffy come by on number wan hundred an' five, 
ringing' the gong iv th' ca-ar, I hollered to him: "Eing out 
th' old, ring in th' new." "Go back into ye'er stall," he 
says, "an' wring ye-ersilf out," he says. "Ye'er wet 
through," he says. 

Whin I woke up this mornin', th' pothry had all dis- 
appeared, an' I began to think th' las' hot wan I took had 
somethin' wrong with it. Besides, th' lumbago was 
grippin' me till I cud hardly put wan foot befure th' 
other. But I renumbered me promises to mesilf, an' I 
wint out on th' sthreet, intindin' to wish ivry wan a 
"Happy New Year," an' hopin' in me hear-rt that th' 
first wan I wished it to'd tell me to go to th' diwle, so I 
cud hit him in th' eye. I had n't gone half a block befure 
I spied Dorsey acrost th' sthreet. I picked up a half a 
brick an' put it in me pocket, an' Dorsey done th' same. 
Thin we wint up to each other. "A Happy New Year," 



192 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

says I. '*Tli' same to you," says he, **an' manny iv 
thim," he says. "Ye have a brick in ye'er hand," says I. 
''I was thinkin' iv givin' ye a New Year's gift," says he. 
**Th' same to yon, an' manny iv thim," says I, fondlin* 
me own ammunition. " 'T is even all around, ' ' says he. 
**It is," says I. "I was thinkin' las' night I 'd give up 
me gredge again ye," says he. ''I had th' same thought 
mesilf," says I. *'But, since I seen ye'er face," he says, 
"I 've con-eluded that I 'd be more comfortable hatin' ye 
thin havin' ye f 'r a frind," says he. ''Ye 're a man iv 
taste," says I. An' we backed away fr'm each other. 
He 's a Tip, an ' can t 'row a stone like a rifleman ; an ' I 'm 
somethin' iv an amachoor shot with a half -brick mesilf. 

Well, I 've been thinkin' it over, an' I 've argied it out 
that life 'd not be worth livin ' if we did n 't keep our 
inimies. I can have all th' f rinds I need. Anny man can 
that keeps a liquor sthore. But a rale sthrong inimy, 
specially a May-o inimy, — wan that hates ye ha-ard, an' 
that ye 'd take th' coat off yer back to do a bad tur-rn 
to, — is a luxury that I can't go without in me ol' days. 
Dorsey is th' right sort. I can't go by his house without 
bein' in fear he '11 spill th' chimbly down on me head; 
an', whin he passes my place, he walks in th' middle iv th' 
sthreet, an' crosses himself. I '11 swear off on annything 
but Dorsey. He 's a good man, an' I despise him. Here 's 

Finley P. Dunne, 
PAT MAGEE 

Walkin' wid Pat Magee 

Down by the Tullagh bog, 

* ' Mind where ye 're settin ' yere shteps, ' ' says he, 

"Lest yez put per foot on a frog. 



Material for Interpretation 193 

Frogs is the divil, ' ' lie says, 
**I 'm tMnkinV' ^Q says, says he, 
**Av I carried yez over to yondher wall 
The sorrow a frog we 'd see." 

Sittin' wid Pat Magee 

Atop of a loose built wall, 

* * It 's unaisy I am in me mind, ' ' says he, 

^'Dhreadin' the stones might fall. 

Stones is the divil to slip. 

I 'm thinkin','' he says, says he, 

*'Av I gave yer waist a bit av a clip 

The sorrow a fear there 'd be." 

Talkin' wid Pat Magee, 

Wid the arm af him round me waist 

An' the red snn sinkin', '^Agrah," says he, 

**Will yez let me shpake to the praste? 

Delays is the divil 's delight. 

An' I 'm thinkin'," he says, says he, 

**Av the two av ns settle this matther to-night, 

'T is married next week we 'd be. ' ' 

Lena Gyles. 

CIECUIVISTANCES ALTER CASES 

Tim Murphy's gon' walkin' wid Maggie O'Neill, 

O chone! 

If I was her muther, I 'd frown on sich f oolin ', 

chone ! 

1 'm sure it 's unmntherlike, darin' an' wrong 
To let a gyrul hear tell the sass an' the song 
Of every young felly that happens along, 

chone! 



194 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

An' Murphy, the things that 's be 'en sed of his doin*, 

O chone! 

'T is a cud that no dacent folks wants to be chewin', 

chone! 

If he came to my door wid his can on a twirl, 

Fur to thry to make love to you, Biddy, my girl, 

An, would n 't I send him away wid a whirl, 

chone! 

They say the gossoon is indecent and dirty, 

chone! 

In spite of his dressin ' so. 

chone! 

Let him dress up ez foine ez a king or a queen, 

Let him put on more wrinkles than ever was seen, 

You '11 be sure he 's no match for my little colleen, 

chone! 

Faith the two is comin' back an' their walk is all over, 

chone! 

'T was a pretty short walk fur to take wid a lover, 

chone ! 

"Why, I believe that Tim Murphy's a kumin' this way, 
Ah, Biddy jest look at him steppin' so gay, 

1 'd niver belave what the gossipers say, 
chone ! 

He 's turned in the gate an' he 's coming a-caperin' 

chone! 

Go Biddy, go quick an' put on a clane apern, 

chone! 

Be quick as ye kin fur he 's right at the dure ; 

Come in, master Tim, fur ye 're welcome I 'm shure. 

"We were talkin' o' ye jest a minute before. 

chone! Anonymous. 



Material for Interpretation 195 



BOEROWING A PIE 

(Mrs. Harrigan crosses the road from her own house and enters 
th6 kitchen of Mrs. Hubbell. Into her own dooryard a buggy con- 
taining a man and woman has just been driven. Mrs. Harrigan 
finds Mrs. Hubbell coming out of her pantry and opens fire on 
her.) 

Mrs. Harrigan: Good-mamin' Mrs. Hubbell. I was 
wonderin' if you had a pie you could lind me the loan of 
till we ate it. Sure, Maggie Cassidy and her husband 
has just this minute druv over from Bridgetown, unbe- 
knownst to me, an' I see them out of the kitchen windy, 
an' me hands in the suds, an' not a pie in the house, an' 
all the family so fond of pies, an' Mr. Hubbell is so 
dyspeptic-like that you must arlways have plinty of pies, 
an' I tharght I 'd run over an' borry wan. Not a bit of 
differ does it make if it 's punkin or mince or apple, but 
Maggie was arlways deaf on pies, an' I want to show 
her that I can bake as good as anny wan, an' she goin' 
back to Bridgetown this afternoon, I suppose. {Mrs. Hub- 
hell, who has retreated into the pantry, returns with a pie.) 
Oh, would ye look at that! Cranberry pie an' arl kivered 
wid slats like. Sure it looks like a valentine! Shall I 
keep the plate, or do ye want it back? I never knows. 
There 's some wants 'em back an' some never says. Sure, 
what 's a plate more or less? I say. But, to be sure, whin 
I lind a plate I want it back, because, after arl, a plate is 
a plate. Did you hair about me bye, Jimmy? He kem 
naire bein' baggageman in the railroad station. On'y they 
had wan they 'd have took him if he could rade an' write 
better. Sure 'tis a pity he didn't accipt it, because he 
can t'row a trunk six feet, he 's that strarng. He 's 
strarng as an ox an ' gentle as a kitten. Ye did n 't see 



196 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

anny thing of our kitten, did ye? "We lost it last week, an' 
me man Mike says lie come acrost it froze to deaf in a 
drift. It was that cnnnin'. It would stand in me lap an' 
knock the spectacles off me face like a monkey. An' it 
would ate of the plate wid the baby just like a tame 
chicken. The baby's gettin' fatter since the kitten 's gone, 
an' it 's a gre't loss it is, because he was so cunnin' an' so 
weeny. I suppose ye haird of how nair the house was to 
bein' burned to the ground on a windy day lasht wake, 
and not a cint of insurance. Not a blessed cint. We was 
able to put it out because I was washin' the clothes, an' 
whin the baby lit the match, be good luck he flung it into 
the tub an' it wint out. But the wind was that high, an' 
Mike in the west lot, an' Jimmy cuttin' ice, that it was a 
narrer escape, an' me so lame wid the rheumatism. I 'm 
tellin' Mike we 'd orter have thim safety matches that 
can't burrn at all. Sure, if ye light thim they go right 
out. {She edges toward the door.) It's wonderful what 
a lot of colds there is nowadays, an' the weather so chilly 
it 's hard to cure thim on that account. The baby was 
out in the rain fer nair an hour yisterday, an' me thinkin' 
him asleep in his crib, an' to-day he has the shniffles, an' I 
dunno where he caught thim, fer I 'm careful to keep the 
window shut tight day an' night, an' blankets on him 
whiniver he 's asleep. Is your hins layin'? I had gre't 
luck wid mine this winter. I did n 't feed thim much, corn 
bain' high, an' free of the Leggetts' pullets come 
under the fince an' laid ivery day in me nest-box. The 
Leggetts feed thim whate, but I can't afford it wid eggs 
t'irty-six cints a dozen an' mate so high. Sure I tell Mike 
we '11 have to become vegetarians unless we live on per- 
taties arltogether, the way we did in th' ould country. 
It 's wicked the way the butcher chairges for mate, an' I 



Material for Interpretation 197 

'haird him say tlie wholesale butchers was just as wicked. 
So it 's a wicked lot they are, bad cess to thim ! Sure, 
I wisht that Mike was in the butcher business to git the 
prices they git, an' I 'd have him kill our cows, fer they 're 
so ould it 's blessed little milk we git, an ' the prices I have 
to pay for rump steak, he 'd git more for them than they 're 
worth. But he 's no good at makin' money. I tell him 
if he was a counterfeiter like enough he 'd make such poor 
money that the law 'd not allow it if they found out. {Opens 
ihe door and stands in the doorway.) Well, I must be 
hurryin', as I know you 're busy, an' Maggie Cassidy '11 
want some wan to come out an' hitch the horse, for her 
man Larry is that afeerd to touch a horse ye might think 
he had a dread of thim. An' his father was kicked to 
deaf be a mule, so it 's not that. He 's cautious of t'ings 
ginerrally, an' he 'd not be married yit if Maggie haHn't 
been so anxious to begin housekapin'. An' they didn't 
kape the house a munt' afther they was married, fer the 
mortgage got foreclosed an' he had to come an' live wid 
her folks. He 'd be a handy man for her father, who keeps 
a livery stable, on'y he 's fearin' horses, so he wanted her 
father to go in a business where he could help, an' th' ould 
man would n't, an' so they quarreled, an' th' ould man got 
the bist of it an ' has had to support him ivver since. Well, 
thank you kindly fer the cranberry pie. There 's Maggie 
knockin' fer dare life at me door, an' no one to let her in 
but the baby, and he can't raich the knob. Sure, I must 
hurry over an' welkim her an' I hope she can stay arl 
night, but I know she can't, an' it 's lucky, fer me spare 
room is full of pertaties. Mike had a great crop this 
year, an* arlmost arl of thim bad. We can't ate more 
than half of 'em, an' he can't sill thim, but it 's the biggest 
crop he ever had, an' arl because he used seed pertaties 



198 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

that come from the gover 'mint at Washingt 'n. Sure, 't is 
a gre't help they are to farmers. 

Well, good-by, an' I '11 make ye an' apple pie in this 
same plate if you '11 lind me the loan of some greenin's, 
fer our apples was burrned on the trees whin the Holts' 
barrn burrned, an' we had baked apples fer a week afther. 
{She runs out.) Hello, Maggie Cassidy! It 's glad I am 
to see you, an' whin did you come? 

Charles Battell Loomis, 



THE WIFE MY BRITHER GOT 

My granda was a quare oul ' sowl ; 
He 'd say : ' ' Now, William, tarry ! 
Leave girls alone, till I am dead, 
It 's then that ye can marry." 

I took his biddin', an' he said 

He 'd leave me all his money. 

The people laughed — near split their sides — 

But I seen naethin' funny. 

He died ; I then found why folk laughed. 
These were his only riches: 
A wooden leg, a feather bed, 
An' a pair o' leather britches. 

A wee cracked pot — wi 'oot a lug, 
A jug — wi'oot a handle, 
A 'baccy box — wi'oot a lid, 
And half a fardin candle. 



Material for Interpretation 199 

An' wMn I axed Peg Quinn tae wed, 
Says she : ' ' Troth, no ! I '11 tarry ; 
Ye 've only what your granda left — 
Yon 're nae a man tae marry ! ' ' 

An' man alive! 'fore long she wed 
Wi' my ain brither Danny; 
* ' He 's got a brave wee farm, ' ' says she, 
**He '11 dae as weel as any." 

Dan comes tae hae a crack odd nights; 
I laugh till I 'm in stitches ; 
He grnnts an' growls: ''I wish tae God 
I 'd only had your riches ! ' ' 

Padric Gregory. 



THE PRIDE OF ERIN 

So she says, lad, she 'd only take up wid a man 
Who was wan av the best, faith, the crame of the clan, 
And the pride av the counthry and salt av the earth ? 
So she 's leavin' you, lad, not knowin' your worth. 
And she holds she can 't mate wid a Kerry like you. 
Since she 's plannin ' to take on wid blood that is blue ! 
And the Divil go wid her, but could n 't she see 
You 'd the blood av O 'Gorman, Fitzpatrick, Magee ? 
And the stock that is first in both fightin' and work 
From the line av 'Brien and Kelly and Burke ? 

—From O'Failey, O'Dailey, O'Reily, O'Neil 
To O'Connell, O'Cooney, O'Shea and O'Sheil! 
McCaffray, McCurchy, McCarroll, McCann, 
All rulers and fighters since fightin' began! 



500 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

O'Leary, OTarrell, 'Carroll, O'Kane, 
McCormack, McGurly, McManus, McShane, 
And Gorman, Fitzpatrick and Fightin' McGirr, 
And iv'ry last man av thim betther than her! 

So she says you 're no betther than Irish, me lad, 
But a counthry-bred, swine-drivin' fenian, bedad! 
The whiffet ! the upshtart ! the meal-fed boothoon ! 
And could she be tellin ', though fed on a spoon. 
The crame av the world from ould Brian Boru ? 
Faith, how could she hope for a Kerry like you? — 
With the pride av your sivin ould kings in your veins, 
Wid your mother 'Toole, and your sire av McShanes? 
Wid your ancistry iv'ry wan wearin' his crown. 
From Rhu and O'Brien to Big Holler an down! 

—From O'Failey, O'Dailey, O'Reily, O'Neil 
To O'Connell, O'Cooney, O'Shea and 'Shell! 
McCaffray, McCurchy, McCarroll, McCun, 
McClone and McCoy — and kings iv'ry one ! 
O'Leary, O'Farrell, 'Carroll, O'Kane, 
McCormack, McGurly, McManus, McShane, 
And Tagon O'Regen and Mighty McGlone, 
The finest av fighters and kings to the bone ! 

Arthur Stringer. 



SECTION XII 
MISCELLANEOUS 



SECTION XII 

MISCELLANEOUS 

{See also ^^Modern Literature for Oral Interpretation/' 
Johnson, page 159, prose.) 

HANS' HENS 

DID I told you aboud my jungest son, yes? He is an 
immertader. De ndder day my oldes' boy who is 
goin' to be a Padarefski vas knockin' der scales off der 
biano, an' der secon' son who had been fishin' vas knockin' 
der scales off a fish, an ' so liddle Karl he runs him into der 
grocery store unt knocks der scales off der counter. 

Ain' dot silly? I shoost made der feerst two boys do 
dot scales bizziness so dot I could make up dot vun aboud 
Karl. Und a funny t'ing aboud id iss dot I haven't two 
udder boys at all. Only shoost Karl, unt he iss my nephew. 

My mudder-in-law she is my aunt. She vas my aunt 
ven I vas born but she didn't get to be my mudder-in-law 
tmtil I married Katrina. Katrina iss her daughder unt 
my wife. I vish dot Katrina 's mudder vas only my aunt 
yet — ain'd id? Dere is someding aboud a mudder-in-law 
dat ubseds peeble. Shoost to look at Katrina 's mudder 
you vould t'ink she vas no vairse dan an aunt, but dot iss 
pecause she neffer vould haf come to liff mit you. Eef I am 
cross mit Katrina my mudder-in-law always takes Kat- 
rina 's sides unt makes me sorry she vas not my aunt only, 
alretty yet. She says dot she objectut to cousins becomin' 
vifes, unt I say dot I objec' to aunts becomin' mudder- 

203 



204 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

in-laws, unt so it goes from vairse to bad until I vish dot 
Katrina had married out of der family. 

De ndder day I took my vife unt her mudder to zee 
Kellar, unt he did zome vondairful tricks, unt at lezt he 
made der vanishing lady trick. After der show vas over 
I vent to see Kellar unt asked him if he would take some 
money avay from me to make my mudder-in-law vanish, 
unt vot do you suppose he said? Dot he couldn't do id 
pecause she vas n 't a lady. 

Of course, I see der choke pecause I haff lived in deez 
coundry t'irty year, unt I know my mudder-in-law, but 
ven I vent home unt tole Kellar 's funny choke to her she 
does not at all der point zee. She is so mat unt uses such 
langwitches dot I tole her dot if she did n 't look oud she 
vould spoil der pleasure of her visit mit me, unt dot make 
her so mat dot she say she vill not stay to be insultit, unt 
she vent home. So I write to Kellar how mush I owed him, 
pecause eefen if my mudder-in-law vas not a lady she had 
vanished. 

I vant to ask you for der remetty for my schickens 
layin' so funny. I haf a dozen of schickens, unt a neighbor 
tells me dot if I don'd vant dem to be stoled I make dem 
roost high. Unt I ask him how I shall teach dem to roost 
at all, unt he say, "Get a rooster, unt ven dey see him 
roost dey vill become roosters, too." But I guess dot iss 
hiss choke. 

But I make der perches ten feet high unt dot iss all 
righd ; der hens go up dair unt sit down, but in der morning 
dey are so high dey are afrait to come down unt so dey 
lay deir eggs up dere. Dey are splendut schickens unt 
lay big eggs, better as der groceryman has, but de eggs 
fall so far dot de yolk run out of der shell der minid dey 
hit der grount. Now I don't know vot to do. Eight, nine, 



Material for Interpretation 205 

ten eggs a day is laid, but dey is all broken ven dey bit der 
grount. Of course, uff dere vas no grount de wouldn't 
get broke, unt dot giff me an idea. I dell Katrina dot 
der grount iss too hard unt I ought to get swan's down, 
unt she say better I get der schickens down. 

But ven nearly sixty eggs iss all smashet on der floor of 
der hen-house I make up a plan dot is all righd. I buy me 
tvelff boys' caps for fifty cents abiece und I fastens dem 
on tvelff poles so dot they come under der hens, unt ven 
I go oud again dere is an eggs in each cap. Yot iss der 
use mit prains unless a man uses dem. De reason zome 
peeble don'd have success mit hens is pecause dey don'd 
use chudgment. 

But experience has school poys. . De nex' time I buy 
me some secon'-han' caps, pecause ven I pay me six dollars 
out for caps to get tvellff eggs it is too much. Unt anyway 
der hens don'd lay any more pecause dey are sick from 
livin' on a perch all der vile. I, too, vould get sick from 
livin' on a perch pecause I hate fish. 

Charles Battell Loomis, 



A RUSTIC SONG 

Oh, I be vun of the useful troibe 

' rustic volk, I be ; 

And writin' gennelmen dii descroibe 

The doin 's o ' such as we : 

I don 't knaw mooch o ' corliflower plants, 

I can't tell 'oes from trowels. 

But 'ear me mix ma consonants, 

An' moodle oop all ma vowels! 



206 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

I talks in a wunnerf ul dialect 

That vew can hnnder stand, 

'T is Yorkshire-Ziimmerzet, I expect, 

With a dash o ' the Oirish brand ; 

Sometimes a bloomin' flower of speech 

I picks from Cockney spots, 

And when Releegions truths I teach, 

Obsairve ma richt gnde Scots ! 

In most of the bukes, 't was once the case 

I 'ad n't got much to do, 

I blessed the 'eroine's purty face, 

An' I seed the 'ero through; 

But now, I 'm juist a pairsonage ! 

A power o' bukes there be 

Which from the start to the very last page 

Entoirely deal with me ! 

The wit or the point o' what I spakes 

Ye 've got to find if ye can ; 

A wunnerf ul difference spellin' makes 

In the 'ands of a competent man ! 

I may n't knaw mooch o' corliflower plants, 

I mayn't knaw 'oes from trowels. 

But I does ma wark, if my consonants 

Be properly mixed with ma vowels! 

Anthony C. Deane. 

FOREIGN VIEWS OF THE STATUE 

On the deck of a steamer that came up the Bay, 
Some garrulous foreigners gathered one day. 
To vent their opinions on matters and things 
On this side the Atlantic, in language pedantic. 
'T was much the same gathering that any ship brings. 



Material for Interpretation 207 

'^Ah, look!" said the Frenchman, with pride his lips 

curled ; 
''See ze Liberte Statue enlighten ze world! 
Ze grandest colossal zat evair vas known ! 
Thus Bartholdi, he speak: 'Vive la Franc e-Amerique ! ' 
La Belle France make ze statue, and God make ze stone ! ' * 

Said the Scotchman : " Na need o ' yer sp 'akin ' sae free ! 
The thing is na sma, sir, that we canna see. 
^0 ye think that wi 'oot it the folk couldna tell ? 
Sin ' 't is Liberty 's Statye, I ken na why that ye 
Did na keep it at hame to enlighten yoursel' !" 

The Englishman gazed through his watch-crystal eye: 

" Ton 'Onor, by Jove, it is too beastly high! 

A monstwosity, weally, too large to be seen! 

In pwoportion, I say, it 's too lawge for the Bay. 

So much lawger than one we 've at 'ome for the Queen I ' ' 

An Italian next joined the colloquial scrimmage: 
' ' I dress-a my monkey just like-a de image, 
I call-a 'Bartholdi' — Frenchman got-a spunky — 
Call-a me 'Macaroni,' lose-a me plendy moany! 
He break-a my organ and keel-a my monkey ! 

' ' My-a broder a f eesherman ; hear-a what he say : 
No more-a he catch-a de feesh in de Bay. 
He drop-a de sein — he no get-a de weesh. 
When he make-a de grab-a, only catch-a de crab-a. 
De big-a French image scare away all de feesh ! " 

"By the home rule!" said Pat; "and is that Libertee? 
She 's the biggest owld woman that iver I see ! 
Pny don't she sit down? 'T is a shame she 's to stand. 
But the truth is, Oi 'm towld, that the sthone is too cowld. 



208 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Would ye moind tlie siiillalali she howlds in her hand ! ' ' 
Said the Cornishman : ' ' Thaat 's no a shillalah, ye scaamp ! 
Looaks to I like Diogenes 'ere wi ' is laamp, 
Searchin ' haard fur a 'onest maan. " ' ' Faith that is true, ' ' 
Muttered Pat, "phat ye say, fur he 's lookin' moi way, 
And by the same favor don 't recognize you ! ' ' 

**Me no sabee you foleners ; too muctiee talkee ! 

You no likee Idol, you heap takee walkee. 

Him allee same Chinaman velly big Joshee. 

Him Unclee Sam gal-ee ; catch um lain, no umblallee ! 

Heap velly big shirtee — me no likee washee!" 

* ' Oh ! " cried Sambo, amazed, * * dat 's de cullud man 's Lor' ! 
He 's come back to de earf ; somefin' he 's lookin' for. 
Alius knowed by de halo surroundin ' he 's brow. 
Jess you looken dat crown ! Jess you looken dat gown ! 
Lor' 'a' mussy, I knows I 's a gone nigga now! 



J? 



Said the Yankee: *'I 've heerd you discussin' her figger; 
And I reckon you strangers hain 't seen nuthin ' bigger. 
"Wall, I hain't much on boastin' but I '11 go my pile: 
When you furreners cum you '11 find her to hum ! 
Dew I mean what I say ? Wall somewhat — I should 
smile!" 

Fred Emerson Brooks. 



MR. SCHMIDT'S MISTAKE 

I GEEPS me von leetle schtore town Proadway, und does 
a pooty good peesnis, bud I ton 't got mooch gapital to vbrk 
mit, so I finds id hard vork to get me oU der gredits vot I 
vould like. Last veek I hear aboud some goots dot a barty 
vas going to sell pooty sheap, und so I writes dot man if he 



f 



Material for Interpretation 209 

vould gief me der refusal of dose goots for a gouple of 
days. He gafe me der refusal — dot is, he salt I gouldn't 
haf dem — ^but he salt he vould gall on me und see mine 
schtore, und den if mine schtanding in peesnis vas goot, 
berhaps ve might do somedings togedder. Yell, I vas 
behint mine gounter yesterday, ven a shentleman gomes in 
und dakes me py der hand und say: *'Mr. Schmidt, I 
pelieve. ' ' I say, ' ' Yaw, ' ' und den I dinks to mineself , dis 
vas der man vot has dose goots to sell, und I musd dry to 
make some goot imbressions mit him, so ve gould do some 
peesnis. *'Dis vas goot schtore," he says, looking roundt. 
*'bud you don't got pooty pig shtock already." I vas 
avraid to let him knov^ dot I only hat 'bout a tousand 
toUars vort of goots in der blace, so I says: ''You ton't 
vould dink I hat more as dree tousand tollars in dis leedle 
schtore, ain't id?" He says: ''You don't tole me! Vos 
dot bossible!" I says: "Yaw." I meant dot id vas hos- 
sibU, dough id vas n't so, vor I vas like Shorge Vashing- 
tons ven he cut town der "olt elm" on Poston Gommons 
mit his leedle hadchet, und gould n 't dell some lies about id. 
"Veil," says der shentleman, "I dinks you ought to 
know petter as anypody else vot you haf got in der 
schtore." Und den he dakes a big book vrom unter his 
arm and say: "Yell, I poots you town vor dree tousand 
tollars." I ask him vot he means py "poots me town," 
und den he says he vas von off der dax-men, or assessors 
of broperty, und he tank me so kintly, as nefer vos, pe- 
cause he say I vos sooch an honest Deutscher, und tidn't 
dry und sheat der gofermants. I dells you vat it vos, I 
didn't veel any more petter as a hundord ber cent, ven 
dot man valks oiidt of mine schtore, und der nexd dime I 
makes free mit sdr angers I vinds first deir peesniss oudt. 

Charles F. Adams. 



210 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

THE SPINSTER'S SWEET-ARTS 

{LincolnsJiire Dialect) 

I. Milk for my sweet-arts, Bess ! fur it mun be the time 

about now 
When Molly comes in fro' the far-end close wi' her 

paails fro' the cow. 
Eh! tha be new to the plaace — ^thou'rt gaapin — 

doesn't tha see. 
I calls 'em arter the fellers es once was sweet upo' 

me? 

II. Naay to be sewer it be past 'er time. What maakes 
'er sa laate? 
Goa to the laane at the back, an' loook thruf Mad- 
dison's gaate! 

III. Sweet-arts! Molly belike may 'a' lighted tonight 

upo' one. 
Sweet-arts! thanks to the Lord that I niver not 

listen 'd to noan! 
So I sits i' my oan armchair wi' my oan kettle theere 

o' the hob, 
An' Tommy the fust, an' Tommy the second, an' 

Steevie an' Rob. 

IV. Rob, coom oop 'ere o' my knee. Thou seest that i' 

spite o' the men 
I 'a' kep' thruf thick an' thin my two 'oondered 

a-year to mysen; 
Yis ! thaw tha call 'd me es pretty es ony lass i ' the 

Shere, 
An' thou be es pretty a Tabby; but Robby, I seed 

thruf ya theere. 



Material for Interpretation 211 

V. Feyther 'ud saay I war ugly as sin, an* I beant not 

vaain, 
But I niver wur downright hugly, thaw soon 'nd 'a 

thowt ma plaain, 
An' I wasn't sa plaain i' pink ribbons, ye said I 

wur pretty i' pinks, 
An' I liked to 'ear it I did, but I beant sich a fool 

as ye thinks; 
Ye was stroakin ma down wi' the 'air, as I be 

a-stroakin o' you. 
But whinever I loook'd i' the glass I wur sewer that 

it couldn't be true 
Niver wur pretty, not I, but ye knaw'd it wur 

pleasant to 'ear. 
Thaw it war n't not me es wur pretty, but my two 

'oonderd a-year. . . . 

VI. But, Robby, I thowt o' tha all the while I wur 

chaangin' my gown. 
An' I thowt shall I chaange my staate? but, Lord, 

upo' coomin' down — 
My bran-new carpet es fresh es a midder o' flowers 

i' Maay— 
Why 'edn't tha wiped thy shoes? it wur clatted all 

ower wi' claay. 
An' I could 'a cried ammost, fur I seed that it 

could n 't be, 
An' Eobby, I gied tha a raatin' that sattled thy 

coortin' o' me. 
An' Molly an' me was agreed, as we was a-cleanin' 

the floor. 
That a man be a durty thing an' a trouble an' 

plague wi' indoor. 



212 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

But I rued it arter a bit, fur I stuck to tha more 

na the rest, 
But I couldn't 'a lived wi' a man, an' I knaws it 

to be all fur the best. . . . 



YII. To be border 'd about, an' waaked, when Molly 'd 

put out the light, 
By a man coomin' in wi' a hiccup at ony hour o' 

the night! 
An' the taable staain'd wi' 'is aale, an' the mud o' 

'is boots o' the stairs, 
An' the stink o' 'is pipe i' the 'ouse, an' the mark 

o' 'is 'ead o' the chairs! 
An ' noan o ' my four sweet-arts 'ud 'a let ma 'a bed 

my oan waay. 
So I likes 'em best wi' taails when they 'evn't a 

word to saay. 



VIII. An' I sits i' my oan little parlor an' sarved by oan 

little lass, 
Wi' my oan little garden outside, an' my oan bed o' 

sparrowgrass, 
An' my oan door-poorch wi' the woodbine an' 

jessmine a-dressin' it greean, 
An' my oan fine Jackman i' purple a roabin' the 

'ouse like a Queean. 



IX. An' the little gells bobs to my hoffens es I be abroad 
i' the laanes. 
When I goas to coomfut the poor es be down wi' 
their haaches an' their paains. 



Material for Interpretation 213 

An' a haaf-pot o' jam, or a mossel o' meat when it 

beant too d^ar, 
They maakes me a graater Laady nor 'eer i' the 

mansion theer, 
Hes 'es hallus to hax of a man how much to spare 

or to spend, 
An' a spinster I be an' I will be, if soa please God, 

to the hend. . . . 

Alfred Termyson, 
Arranged by Gertrude Johnson. 



JOHN CHINAMAN'S PROTEST 

Melican man no wantee John Chinaman ally mo ' 

He no slay, ' ' John, you velly good washee. ' ' 
Not muchee; he slay, '^John, I wipee flo' 
Withee you, if mo' comee this countlee." 
What fo' 
Melican man 
No wantee 
John Chinaman 
Ally mo'? 

John Chinaman he no gettee dlunk heap 

He mind his own washee, washee, 
AUe dayee long, and takee sleep, 

Boil watel f o ' — wat you call him ? — ^hashee ! 
What fo' 
Melican man 
No wantee 
John Chinaman 
Ally mo'? 



214 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

John Chinaman he no punchee head much ; 

He no, like Meliean man, say ' ' Helle ' ' 
He usee sloap, watel, sclnbbin '-blush, 
Ebly dayee to help fillee bellee. 
What fo' 
Meliean man 
No wantee 
John Chinaman 
Ally mo'? 

John Chinaman he vellee pool man; 

He no have timee to fool away ; 
He workee allee dayee fast he can : 
He no workee, he no gettee pay. 
What fo' 
Meliean man 
No wantee 
John Chinaman 
Ally mo'? 

John Chinaman no loafee lound the sleets; 

He workee hald fo' makee livin'; 
He washee collals, shirtee, cuffee, sheets; 
He do no beggin' or no t'iefin. 
What fo' 
Meliean man 
No wantee 
John Chinaman 
Ally mo'? 

John Chinaman he havee no votee : 
Is that leason why he no wantee here? 

He no go lound 'lection day, and shoutee, 
Fightee evelybody, smokee cigal, or dlink beer. 



Material for Interpretation 215 

What fo' 

Melican man 

No wantee 

John Chinaman 

AUy mo'? . 

Anonymous. 

A DOG STORY 

Dere vhas a leedle vomans once 

Who keept a leedle shtore, 
Und had a leedle pnppy dog 

Dot shtoodt pefore der door. 
Und evfery dime der peoples coom 
He opened vide him's jaw. 
Schnip! Schnap! shoost so, 
Und bite dem. 

Vun day anoder puppy dog 

Cooms runnin' down der shtreet, 
Oudt of Herr Schneider 's sausage-shop, 

Vhere he had shtoled some meat ; 
Und after him der Schneider man — 
Der vhind vhas not more fleet. 
Whir-r-r! Whist! shoost so, 
Like vinkin! 

Der leedle voman 's puppy dog 

Vhas lookin' at der fun, 
He barkit at der Schneider man, 

Und right pefore him run ; 
Den fell him down, dot Schneider man, 
Like shooted mit a gun. 
Bang! Crash! shoost so, 
Und voorser. 



216 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Der puppy dog dot shtoled der meat, 

Roon 'd on und got avhay ; 
Der leedle voman's pnppy dog 
Der Sclineider man did slay, 
Und make him indo sausages — 
Dot 's vot der peoples say. 
Chip ! Chop ! shoost so, 
Und sell him. 

DER MORAIi 

Der moral is, don't interfere 
Yhen droubles is aroundt ; 
Der man dot 's in der fightin' crowd 

Vhill get hurt I '11 be pound. 
Mind your own peesness, dot is pest, 
In life she vhill be found. 
Yaw! yaw! shoost so, 
I pet you. 

John Thomas Brown. 



SECTION XIII 
ONE ACT PLAYS IN DIALECT 



SECTION XIII 
ONE ACT PLAYS 

A RAMLET 0' PUCE 

(Characters) 

(Mrs.) Katie Divin, an old countrywoman. 
(Mrs.) Matty M'Granahan, a younger woman, farmer^s 
wife. 

(Scene : a roadside in Donegal.) 

(Katie Divin, bareheaded, is seated alone on a stone ditch, 
knitting. ) 

Katie (soliloquising). Feth now it's quare an' gran' 
at the rare o' your days to be sittin' in the sun fominst 
your own door, listenin' to your own ould goose caeklin', 
an ' your own ould pig gruntin ', and to feel the sun shinin ' 
on you, as if it was all your own f orbye, an ' to be watchin ' 
the com gettin' yallower and yallower, an' to know for 
sartin that your ould man 's aff to the Fair o' Carn, an' 
cannae be back till nightfall ! I declare it thonder 's naw 
Matty M'Granahan comin' down the mountainy road. I 
would know the proud step of her a mile aff. I '11 warnt 
she 's been in to Johnny Gallagher 's to buy a dress for 
Mary Pat's weddin'. (Short pause, then suddenly.) 
wouldn't it be the tarrible misfortune if she 's tuk the 
self same ramlet o' puce Annie Cassie 's been hankerin' 
after this while past (stops knitting). An' it the wan 

219 



220 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

bit o' daeent stuff in Johnny's shop! An' Annie Cassie 
jist waitin' till get the hapence out o' Mickey till buy it! 
Annie Cassie '11 be fair wild if Matty's taken the fore-road 
of her. There was niver a good agreement betwixt them 
two since they were wee cutties.^ But it 's myself would n 't 
like to see Annie Cassie put throughother.^ She 's my own 
sister 's child that I reared from she was a wean, an ' Matty 
M'Granahan 's no way sih ^ till us, an' has got quare an' 
eoncaity since Jamie was made a Poor Law Guardian. 
Well here comes herself. I '11 jist keep as quite as a 
settin' hen. Matty 's as close as a wilk* if ye ax her 
questions, but she '11 give ye the quare dale o' news if ye 
niver let on yourself. 

{Enter Matty M'Granahan wearing 'bonnet trimmed 
with somewhat goAidy flowers, hlack cape, and carry- 
ing market basket or string bag.) 

Matty. Good morra till ye, Katie. Is it jist takin' 
stock o' the fine evenin' ye are? My! but it 's warrum! 
(Deposits basket on tuaU and sits down for a gossip.) 
Dear help them as has to live in the town these days! 

Katie. Ay, the crathurs! dear help them! I had a 
letter from my nevvy-by-marriage that 's in London this 
ten year an' more, an' he says it 's the warrumest summer 
he 's ivver knowed. 

Matty. London's the quare big place. I had a cousin 
wanst was hired there. "What part might your newy be 
livin' in? 

Katie. I cannae rightly mind the address, but I know 
it 's somewhere aff the main street. 

Matty {with a scornful laugh). Main street! Katie 

*Girl or lass. 
^Put in confusion. 
^ Related. 
* \\Tielk. 



Material for Interpretation 221 

Divin, do ye naw know there 's as many as six or seven 
main streets in London ? Sure it 's all main streets there ! 
A body would think you were talkin' about the likes o' 
Dunkineely; a wheen/ houses stragglin' along the road! 

Katie ihridling). How-an-iver it isnae iverywan can 
say they 've a newy-by-marriage in London ! But ye Ve 
been in till the town I '11 warn't — ^by the boots on ye. 
Woman, dear, did ye travel over the mountains in them 
things? (pointing to Matty's hoots) . What for did ye naw 
take them aff ye at Lookin' Glass Brae? 

Matty (disdainfully) . Sure it 's only them wans from 
the back o' the mountain takes aff their booths at Lookin' 
Glass Brae. I would n't be seen doin' it, so I would n't. 

ELA.TIE. Feth ye might be seen doin' worse: When I 
was your age divil a fut would I travel in the boots. But 
it 's changed days with us all in Ballycarragh, with wur 
slate roofs till wur byres, an' wur bonnets till wur heads! 
Sure the cows giv' jist as good milk under the stra', an' 
it 's my belief the more ye 've on your head, the less ye 've 
in it. 

Matty (looking a little taken aback). Well, the 
fashion 's the fashion. An' it 's your own sister 's daugh- 
ter Annie Cassie M'Phelimy 's jist as set on the fashion 
as any wan, so it is, for all she 's married on Long Mickey 
M'Phelimy, an' has a cartload o' childher. 

Katie. Poor Annie Cassie the crathur! it 's naw much 
pleasure in life she has; an' if she does get an odd dress 
now an' again, sure any wan that would be marriet on 
Long Mickey would need a bit o' divarsion. 

Matty. Now and again! Katie Divin, I 'm wonderin' 
at ye, so I am. Does Annie Cassie M'Phelimy iver plant 
feet in the town that she 's naw sittin' in Johnny Gal- 
lagher's shop the len'th of a day? Sure she knows far 
* Several. 



222 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

better nor Johnny himself ivery bit o' stuff on them 
shelves o' his. 

Katie (significantly). Maybe there might be wans 
forbye Annie Cassie wouldn't be above gleekin' ^ round 
the jamb o' Johnny Gallagher's door, Matty Granahan. 

Matty {angrily). Only out of needcessity, ir it 's 
meself ye might be referrin' till, Mrs. Divin. But it 's time 
I was steppin' {rising and taking up hasJcet with an air of 
dudgeon). There 's some folks' tongues is longer nor their 
tempers, so there is {makes to go of). 

Katie {in casual tone). This is the gran' news about 
Mary Pat's weddin'. 

Matty {pausing, hut not looking round). Ay, it is that. 

Katie. It 's ould Paddy Doherty '11 be quare an' proud 
gettin' his daughter married on ^'rich Thomas." 

Matty {turning slightly and evidently anxious to resume 
gossip). Ay will he. 

Katie. An' they tell me it 's goin' to be the quare 
gran' weddin'. 

Matty. Ay now? {edging hack towards Katie). Well, 
Paddy Doherty has a brave roughness ^ on him. 

Katie. Ay, there was niver no stint wi' paddy. They 
tell me Mary Pat 's gettin' the quare dandy dress. 

Matty {eagerly). Did ye hear the kin' o' the dress? 
I '11 warnt it '11 be wan o' the new-fashioned kind that 
trips ye when ye travel {approaching still nearer). 

Katie. I '11 warnt. {After a pause, glancing signifi- 
cantly at ]\iATTY.) There '11 be more nor Mary Pat gettin' 
new duds for the weddin'. Johnny Gallagher '11 be settin' 
out all his fancy stuffs, so he will. 

Matty. Feen a bit o ' decent cloth 's in the shop forbye 
the bit of a ramlet I brought wi' me. 

^ Peeping — furtive. 

^Plenty of this world's goods. 



Material for Interpretation 223 

Katie (looking up sharply). A ramlet? then ye 've 
been in wi ' Johnny ? 

Matty (depositing basket on ground and settling d^n 
once more for a thorough gossip). To tell ye the truth, 
I was jist on my kailye makin' straight for 'Liza Ann 
M'Fadden's to ax after her leg that was broke when 
Johnny onts to the door after me. ''Ye 11 be for the 
weddin'." says he. ''I 'm axed," says I. ''An' is it 
passin ' my dacent shop ye are ? ' ' says he. ' ' Sure ye cannae 
go till a weddin' in them ould duds. It 's disgracin' your- 
self an' Jamie M'Granahan ye '11 be," says he, "and him 
newly made a Poor Law Guardian. Hould on now till I 
show ye the purtiest bit o' cloth in the country, a ramlet 
o' puce, jist the right len'th for a wumman o' your 
dimansions. Sure I Ve been thinkin' o' nothin' an nobody 
but yourself since I cut it." 

Katie (laying down knitting and glancing at Matty 
sharply). Puce did ye say? an' a ramlet f 

Matty. Ay, puce. Well, thinks I to myself, I '11 get 
quet o' ye aisier, my boy, if I jist go in an' pass myself.^ 
I 'm under no needcessity to take your stuff if it 's naw to 
my plazement. So in I steps, an' wi' that he leps over the 
counter — that ye could nae see his heels for the dust he 
was kickin' up — an' out he brings a real genteel piece o' 
puce, jist the thing for a weddin'. "An' what would ye 
be axin' for the ramlet?" says I. "Twelve shillin', it 's 
double width," says he. "Seein' as I 'm not wantin' it 
at all, ' ' says I, " an ' only takin ' it till oblige ye, I '11 go the 
len'th o' ten." "We '11 split the differ," says he; an' 
before I knowed where I was, he rowls it up, an' it 's in 
my han'. I tell ye, I niver was as taken aback in my life. 

Katie (musingly) . Puce, an' a ramlet! 

Matty (rummaging in basket). It 's yourself should 

^ Get it over. 



224 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

know a decent bit o' cloth, Katie Divin. An' here it is 
{holding up remnant of purple cloth for Katie's inspeo 
Hon) . 

Katie {peering at it, and then gazing in sorrowful 
anmzement at Matty). An' that 's what ye bought for a 
weddin'? Martha M'Granahan, I 'm surprised at ye. 
Woman, dear, I thought ye had more wit. 

Matty {taken aback). What 's wrong wi' 't? a nice 
Oliver bit o ' cloth as iver ye seen ! 

Katie {mournfully). Matty M'Granahan* will ye tell 
me whose corp ye 're goin ' till wake ? 

Matty. Wake? It 's naw till a wake I 'm goin'. Sure 
I towld ye it was till Mary Pat's weddin'. 

Katie. Sure ivery wan knows puce is no colour for a 
weddin'. It's a kin' o' mournin', so it is. When my 
brother's wife's half-sister died, Sarah Jane went intil 
puce. 

Matty. My oh! I niver heerd tell o' the like. Half- 
mournin' is it? 

Katie. An' what 's more — it would be the onluckiest 
thing at all till go to a weddin' in half-mournin'. 

Matty {ohvioudy depressed). Well, lucky or no, I 'm 
feared I '11 have to stick till 't. {Suddenly brightening.) 
I '11 tell ye what I '11 do. I '11 rowl it up an' put it past 
in the spare-room chest o' drawers, an' it '11 come in handy 
in the summer for a Sunday shoot for Jamie. 

Katie. Matty M'Granahan, ye 're talkin' quare an' 
ignorant! An' Jamie now a Poor Law Guardian! What 
way would he go to the Boord wearin' a shoot o' puce? 
Sure they would take their end,^ laughin' at him! 

Matty. I wisht in my heart I 'd niver laid eyes on 't. 
You 've put me quare an' out o' concait wi' it. 

Katie {resignedly) . Well, well, if it be to be, it be to 
"Die. 



Material for Interpretation 225 

be. But I 'm feared there 'U some ill-luck happen to Mary 
Pat. Like enough she '11 die within the year, or *'rieh 
Thomas" '11 lose all his money, an' they '11 both end their 
days in the workhouse. But don 't say I did n 't warn ye. 

Matty {rising). Och them 's ould-fashioned notions o' 
yours, Katie, about ill-luck. Ill-luck comes to them that 
does ill, an' good-luck comes to them that does well. But 
I must be gettin' on. 

Katie {knitting industriously). I always heerd tell 
that puce makes a body look quare an' yallow in the skin. 
They say them that wears it looks twicet their age. 

Matty {halting on her step). I niver heerd that afore. 
{Moves on a step or two, then stops again.) I 'd be lazy ^ 
to look yallow, for I had aye a brave clear colour o' my 
own. Many 's the time Jamie used to say I could sport 
the rid an' white wi' the purtiest girl in the country. 

Katie {drily). I '11 wamt that was when he was 
coortin'. The men 's quare an' ould-fashioned them times. 

Matty. Still an ' for all I would nae like Jamie to think 
I was lookin' yallow, naw for the value of all the puce 
dresses in Johnny Gallagher's shop. I declare to ye, Katie 
Divin, but ye 've put me clane out o ' concait wi ' the thing, 
I '11 jist pack it back to Johnny, so I will, an' I '11 get 
eleven shillin' worth o' stuff for curtains for the room. 
Now that Jamie 's in a manner o' speakin' a public man 
we be to have ^ things a bit tastier like. The neighbours 
expecks it aff us. 

Katie. To be sure they do. Them that 's in the sarvice 
o' their country can nae affoord till live like or'nar folk. 

Matty. I 'm goin' doen to Derry wi' Jamie on Wednes- 
day, to hire a cutty at the rabble ; ^ an' I '11 jist have a look 

»Slow. 

^We are obliged. 

* Half-yearly fair. 



226 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

round for a nice respectable bit o' dark blue cashmire. 
An' I 'm thinkin' I '11 lave the bit o' puce wi' you, Katie 
{taking parcel frorni basket). Willie John's Davy 's goin' 
intil the town the morra, an ' I '11 tell him to call in for 't 
Naw, naw, I would n 't for the world Jamie would think I 
was gettin' ould an' yallow. Jamie 's been the quare good 
man till me. Here it is ; ye '11 keep it safe, Katie. 

Katie. Surely I will — right enough. 

Matty. I 've clean taken the scunner at it, an' that 's 
the truth. Well, good-bye till ye Katie. {Exit.) 

Katie {soliloquising while she smooths down the hit of 
cloth). Well, well, the crathur'. But it was aisy decaivin' 
her! Maybe I done well, an' maybe I done ill, but anyway 
I done Annie Cassie a good turn. She 'd ha' been fair 
leppin' if Matty M'Granahan had taken the fore-road of 
her. An' sure it '11 be doin' Matty herself a good turn 
till take the bit o' puce off her hands, an' her scunnered 
at it! An' it 's doin' Johnny Gallagher a good turn, for 
he '11 get rid o' the puce an' the curtains forbye. Sure 
it 's doin' good turns all round I am! Yallow! och, the 
crathur! the crathur! {rocks to and fro, laughing). My! 
but the weemen has the quare dale o' vanity! An' it all 
for the sake o' the men. An' sure the men 's that blinded 
after they 're marriet the divil a bit they know what ye 'ra- 
like ! If Matty M 'Granahan had a haporth o ' wit, she 'd 
know right well that Jamie '11 naw see a bit o' differ on 
her if the both o' them lives to be a hundher. Well, well, 
I must go in an' square myself up,^ for that ould man o' 
mine when he comes back from the Fair. {Begins to 
titivate a little.) Yallow! och the crathur! but she was 
aisy decaived! {HohMes off, laughing, with parcel.) 

A. M'Clure Warnock. 

* Primp. 



Material for Interpretation 227 



THE EIDER OF DREAMS ^ 

Scene: {Night in a roam used for kitchen, dining^oom 
and laundry hy a colored family. A la/mp is set upon 
a central table laid unth a spotless table cloth. Baskets 
of clothes stand on several chmrs. At the hack is a 
cook-sto^e and to the left of this a door. There are also 
doorways at the right and left of the room. Lucy 
Sparrow, a worn, sweet-faced woman of forty, is 
sprinkling clothes at an ironing-board at left with her 
hack turned to the table beside which, on a high stool, 
is perched a small boy, Booker Sparrow. Both the boy 
amd the woman as well as the room show a painstaking 
neatne^ despite the disorder necessary in the process 
of a professional ^^wash.") 

Lucy. Who make you? 

Booker. God. Ain't the mush done now? 

Lucy. It 's done but I ain't done wif you. You got to 
learn good befo' you can eat good. Who redeem you? 

Booker. Christ. I 11 stop being hungry for it if I 
don't get it now. 

Lucy. Bettah lose youah wishes an' youah ahms an' 
laigs an' everything youah body 's fix wif an' keep youah 
immortal soul. Who sanctify you? 

Booker. The Holy Ghost. I don't want nothing but 
mush. 

Lucy. Well, you ain' goin' to git hit twell you luhns 
de questions. What de chief en' of man? 

^Beprinted by permission of the author and by special arrange- 
ment with The Maemillan Company, Publishers. 

For permission to perform this play application must be made 
o the author in care of the publisher. 



228 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Booker. Chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy ^ 
himself for ever. ^ 

Lucy {coming swiftly forward and confronting him with 
a threatening look). Enjoy hisself! I ain' neveh teach 
you dat. You know betteh 'n dat. Man got no right to 
enjoy hisself. He got to enjoy Gawd. 'You knows dat as 
well as you knows eatin\ An' you got to say it an* what 's 
mo' you got to live it. 'Now what de chief en' of man? 

Booker. Enjoy God forever. 

Lucy. Dat 's mo' like it. (She turns her hack and 
going to the ironing -hoard resumes her labors, still talk- 
ing.) I 'm raisin' you fo' de Kingdom an' you 'ah goin* 
in de Kingdom ef pushin' '11 Ian' you dere. Because 
dis time anutheh yeah you may be in some lonesome grave- 
yard. {Singing.) 

In some lonesome graveyard 
Oh, Lawd, no time to pray. 

{As she sings Booker stealthily slips off his stool and 
going around to the oppo^te side of the table takes a spoon 
with which he approaches a dish set upon a warming-shelf 
fixed to the stove. Ee furtively dips his spoon in the dish 
amd hegins to eat. Lucy continuing her singing.) 

Play on youah harp, little David, 
Little Davy, how ole are you ? 
^ ' I 'm only twelve y eahs ole. ' ' 

{She turns and discovers Booker.) What ! Yon stealin' ! 
I 'U show you! {She gives him a cuff and a shake, de- 
positing him again upon his stool.) You shorely is on de 
way to de fieh but I 'm goin' pluck you out ef it skins you 
alive. Steal, will you? What de sevenf commandment? 

Booker {sniveling) . Thou shalt not steal. 

Lucy. See dat. You knows it but you des won't live 



Material for Interpretation 229 

hit. Well, I 'm goin' live it into you. I 'm goin' slap sin 
out of you. (She gives him (mother shake,) An' de grace 
into you. Now you say dat commandment sevumty times 
sevun. Begin. Say it. 

Booker. Thou shalt not steal. Thou shalt not steal — 
{The door at hack opens and Madison Sparrow stands in 
the doorway looking on the scene within the room. He is 
a tall, loose- jointed, lazy-look^ing man. In one hand he 
carries a long green hag.) 

Madison {after a survey of the situation). What de 
boy do? 

Lucy. He steal, dat what he do. 

Madison. Um. What he steal? 

Lucy. Mush. I tole him not to tech it. 

Madison. Well, he was hongry, were n 't he ? 

Lucy. Dat ain' de p'int. 'T were n't his till I give 
it to him. 

Madison {places the hag carefully hy the doorway, 
throws his hat upon it, then seats himself at the table). 
Bring on dat mush. I 'm tia'hd of dese fool doin's. Dey 
ain't no git ahead wif imi. Ef de boy wants mush let him 
git mush. 

Lucy {placing food before him on the table). Yes, but 
not rob it. 

Madison. Who talkin' 'bout robbin'? 

Lucy. Madison, dat 's de wrong kin' of trash fo' dis 
baby to heah. Go lay down, honey. Tek de bowl wif you. 
(Booker whines but takes a d!ish and goes to doorway at 
left.) 

Madison. No, hit 's de right kin' of preachin'. I 'm 
! tia'hd of all dat ol' fashion way of doin'. Ef I wuz to 
wuk my ahms off dat ol' fashion way I couldn't git no 
t furder. 

Lucy. What you bin wukin' at dis yeah, Madison? 



'i 



230 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Madison. Dat 's it. You know dat I 'm bin lookin' 
it and couldn't find hit. 

Lucy. What you wuk at last yeah? 

Madison. You knows I wuk in the strippin' factory. 

Lucy. Jes' two weeks. 

Madison. You knows I wuk till I strain my back. But 
neveh min' about all dat. I done tuhn oveh a new leaf. 
I goin' to be a business man. I goin' to let de otheh man 
wuk. 

Lucy. S'posin' everybody was to do dat way. 

Madison. Let 'em do hit. I don' ask nothin' of nobody. 
I goin' to have every toof in my haid covehed wif gol'. 
I '11 get youah'n an Book's fix dat way too. I goin' to 
have plenty society grub in me all de time. I ain' goin* 
to let my fam'ly suffeh. I got too sweet a disposishun fo' 
dat. I '11 git 'em whateveh I want. 

Booker {lingering in doorway). When you get rich 
will you get me the guitar, Daddy? 

(Lucy waves Booker through doorway. He vanishes.) 

Madison. I '11 git it an' I got it. Watch me now. {He 
goes over to the hag hy the door and reaching in it produces 
a handsome guitar.) Dat 's de beginnin' er good times, 
boy. 

Lucy {with sickening apprehension). Madison, where 
you git dat insterment. 

Madison. Dat 's de Lawd's insterment, Lucy. He done 
pervide it. 

Lucy. Oh, Madison, dat ain' youah'n. 

Madison. 'T is now, honey. 

Lucy. No, youah las' dime you spent Sunday an' I 
ain' give you no money since. You got it wif out payin' 
for it. You charged it. 

Mauson. Yassah, I got it wif out paying for it an' I 



Material for Interpretation 231 

going to keep on a-gettin' it wifout payin' for hit as long 
as de gittin's good. 

Lucy, How yon like to be treat dat way? 

Madison. What way? 

Lucy. If you was keepin' a store, to have folks charge 
things when dey did n ' know how dey could pay. 

Madison. I 'm willin' fo' to be treat dat way ef dey 
can do hit. Let 'em come an' git my things if dey finds 
any. 

Lucy {hreaJcing down). Oh, I cain' stan' hit. Youah 
sinkin' fas' down to de fiery lake an' you 's puUin' my 
Baby down too. 

Maj>ison. No, I 's raisin' him up an' I goin' to Ian' 
us all in a sof ' place on dat Easy Street I heah em singin' 
'bout so long wifout seein'. 

Lucy (suddenly examining the guitar), Wheah you 
git dis guitar? 

Madison. What guitar? 

Lucy. Dis. Oh, Madison, dis is 'Zek'l Williams' own 
guitar dat he would n' sell. Dis is de guitar dat nobody 
could n' buy. How you come by it? 

Madison. Look heah, woman. You act like I stole de 
guitar. You don 't think I 'm a thief, do you ? 

Lucy. How you come by hit? 

Madison. I got it off Wilson Byrd. 

Lucy. Dat sneakin' w'ite man. How 'd he git it? 

Madison. I didn' ask him. 

Lucy. What you give him fo' hit? 

Madison. Oh, dat 's anotheh story. Him an' me 's 
goin' in business togetheh. 

Lucy. Oh, Madison, dat w'ite man stole dis guitar. 
Oh, take it back dis minute an' snatch youah soul from 
de bu'nin'. 



232 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Madison. Who, me? What you tak' me fo*, gal? 
Take back a guitar to de rich man, de man what own de 
very house we live in ! 

LucjY. Well, we soon will buy it. 

Madison. Dat 's right. We will. But dat ain' de 
question. I didn git dis guitar fo' to return it, I git it 
fo' to play it. I boun' to play it cause I ^m goin to be 
er rich man soon an' I got to have a plenty music in me. 

Lucy. You goin' to git rich playin' guitar? 

Madison {laughing comfortably). Eh, yah, yah. 
Whoopee! No, indeedy. I flies higher dan music flies. 
I 'm one er dese heah kin er 'lectioneerin ' mens which 
make dere money work fo' um. Dey sen's one doUah 
out in de heat an' sweats her twell she rolls home wif 
anutheh. 

Lucy. How you goin' to put money out, Madison, lessen 
you wuks an' gits de money? 

Madison (cunningly) . Oh, don' yo' botheh youah haid 
long er dat. I bin down low and folks trample me des 
same as a wu'm but now I 'm goin' spread my wings an' 
sting 'em like a king bee. Whaffo' I lay dere an' let'm 
trample me ? 'T were because I lack conf erdence. I puts 
my 'pen'ance on dis promis', I puts my 'pen'ance on dat, 
an' dey all fails me. 

Lucy. You ain't neveh put youah trus' in Gawd. 

Madison. Yassuh, I did, an' Gawd He up an' gimme 
de go-by too. What He bin doin' fo' me? Nuthin'. Now 
I goin' spit on my ban's an' whu'll in an' trus' myse'f. 
An' I feels lots betteh. I can feel conf erdence wukin' all 
oveh me. I casts 'em all off. I 'm lookin' out fo' myse'f. 
M-m-m — It took me long time to git heah but now I 'm 
heah let 'em look out for me. (His voice rises to a chant.) 

M-m-m — Midnight on de sea. All de lights out. I 'm 



Material for Interpretation 233 

carryin' hod en Jacob' laddeh to build me a new house 
an' I 'm buildin' it high,*man. Don' tech me. I 'm a flame 
of fieh an' I '11 singe you sho'. If dey asks fo' me tell 'em 
say, *'I saw somethin' sailin' up but he was headin' fo' a 
high hill on de sun an' my eyes failed me." Tell 'em say, 
*'He had de fo' win's runnin' like stallions to fetch up 
wif him but dey carried 'em out, an' buried 'em in the 
valley. He bus' dere hea'ts!" Tell 'em say, **He was 
herdin' lightnin's like sheep an' dey wuz too slow an' he 
picked 'em up an' sheared 'em an' sent 'em home." 

Dat 's me, I 'm de one you '11 be talkin' 'bout. For 
why? 'Cause I cas' off ever 'thing an' I puts my trus' 
in myself an' nuthin' can't hole me. De mo' I says it 
de mo' I feels conferdence. I feels it a-wukin'. 

Lucy. You goin' to wuk, Madison? 

Madison. Yes, indeedy. I got to wuk' an' wuk ha'd. 
I can't shirk none. 

Lucy. What wuk you goin' to do? 

Madison. I 'm a stock brokin' man. I goin' into de 
stock brokin' business tomorrer. 

Lucy. How ? 

Madison. Buyin' an' sellin', dat 's how an' which too. 

Lucy. De Devil 's wrastlin' wif you, Madison, an' 
you 's perishin' fas'. Ef you keeps on in dis paf you '11 
Ian' mongs' de rocks er mournin'. You let somebody 
tu'n you roun'. 

Madison. Not me. Nobody can't tu'n me roun'. I 
dreamed it an' I dreamed it right, face fo'mos' an' on de 
run. 

Lucy. How dream ? 

Madison, Las' night an' day befo' yistiddy night an' 
night befo' dat. I wuz layin' groanin', **0 Lawd, how 
long," an' I heah a voice say, *'Git up an' come 



2S4 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

a-runnin'/' Looks up an sees a fine w'ite saddle hoss. 
Hoss say, 

*'Ride me right an' I '11 guide you right." 

On I gits an' off he goes, slick as a rancid transom car. 
Comes to high hill lookin' down on de sun an' moon. 
Hoss stop an' say, 

''Brung you.heah to give you noos 
De worl ' is y ouahn to pick an ' choose. ' ' 

I ax him ' ' How dat ? ' ' Hoss say : 

' ' How is how an ' why is why, 
Buy low an' sell high." 

I say to him, "I got no money to buy. Wheah I goin' 
git de fun's to buy low?" Hoss respon': 

' ' Trus ' yo 'se 'f an ' take youah own, 
Git de meat an' leave de bone. 
Bus' de nut an' fling 'em de shell, 
Eide an' let em walk a spell, 
Findeh's keepeh's, loseh's weepeh's, 
I Ijope dese few lines finds you well." 

I ax him who tole him all dis an ' hoss say : 

"Ole hoss Grab will nevah balk, 
All dis heah is w 'ite man talk. ' ' 

Dat what de hoss say to me in my true dream ev'y night 
dis week an' I 'm a-goin' to bide by hit twell de las' er ' 
pea time. 'Cause I 'm er true dreameh an' my mammy 
she wuz befo' me. 

Lucy. What come of de hoss in de dream, Madison? 



Material for Interpretation 235 

Maihson. Dat 's all. Hoss went up in smoke an' I come 
down in bed. 

Lucy. Hoss went up in smoke ! No, hit went down in 
smoke an' fiah. 

Madison. Now look-a heah, woman. I 'm goin' to make 
you a good livin' f 'um now on. I 'm goin' into business 
termorrer. I 'm goin' in de specalatin' wu'k. I 'm goin' 
to buy low an' sell high. 

Lucy. What kin you buy wif? You got no money. 

Madison {hesitating "but collecting his forces gradually). 
Oh, ain't I tell you 'bout dat? I got it in de dream. 

Lucy. In de dream? 

Madison. Um hmmm. You know dat hoss I tole you 
'bout. Well'm 'jes' fo' we pa 'ted he prance up th'ough 
a starry fiel' an' come to a gyarden fence. Oveh dat fence 
he lep an', man, she was a fine gyarden. ''Whose patch 
dish yer?" I say to him. Hoss say: 

* ' If you asks me grab what you see. ' ' 

Den he reaches down an' pulls up a tu'nip wif his teef 
an' gives it to me an' say, 

' ' Dis gyarden truck will fetch you luck. ' ' 

{He watches Lucy furtively.) An' I takes an' sta'ts to 
peel dis tu'nip an' what does I find? I find she 's a fine 
fat roll er bills, dem tu'nip tops is greenbacks. 

Lucy. So youah money is dream money? 

Madison. Well, no, not ezackly. De hoss whispeh 
sumpin' in my eah an' told me how to make dat dream 
money real money. An' I took de hint an' done it today. 
An' on dat money I '11 buy low an' gouge 'em all good. 

Lucy. How much you got? 



236 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Madison. Weirm — {He hesitates.) I got a little an' 
den some. I got erbout — fifty er so. 

LuoY. Wheah you git it? (She catches hold of him.) 

Madison. Tu'n me loose, woman. I goin' to baid. I 
got to make early sta't. {He pulls off his coat.) 

Lucy {wildly). I ain' goin' to let you stay in sin. {She 
snatches the coat from him.) I goin' take dis money an' 
make you say wheah you got it. 

{She hegin^ hastily searching through the pockets of the 
coat.) 

Madison {calmly regarding her with great good hum,or 
and breaking into a laugh as she fails in her search) . Eh, 
yah, yah, sea 'eh an' look, sea'ch an' look. 

Lucy. Oh, Madison, ain' you' got no honin' ter be 
hones' at all? 

Madison. Hones'! What kin' er fool talk is dat? I 
done got my ear-string bus' now an' dem preachah wu'ds 
can't fool me no mo'. You '11 neveh fin' it, honey. 'Cause 
why? 'Cause I 'm got it in my pants an' I goin' to keep 
it f 'um a foolish woman. 

Lucy {running to him desperately). You got to give 
it to me. 

Madison. Gal, if you don' tu'n me loose I '11 git ugly. 
Now, look heah. I wants to heah de las' er dis. I got 
new ideahs. I got big plots en plans. I done give you de 
plankses in my platfo'm an' I 'm a-goin' to stan' on hit. 
When I makes a lot mo' money in de broker business I 'm 
a-goin' to give you all de gold youah ap'un '11 hold, ev'y 
day er youah life, an' you won' have to wait long. But 
till dat day an' to dat time I 'm de treasu'eh er dis lodge 
an' I 'm de stake holdeh er dis race an' dat money stays 
in de pu'se in de hip or my ol' jeanses. {He says this last 
slowly and with growing emphasis and as he ends, gvue& 



Material for Interpretation 237 

himself a resounding whack on the hip over his pocket. 
There is a moment's pause. He puts his hand hurriedly 
in the pocket and then dazedly into one on the other hip.) 
Whatdis? Wheah dat roll? 

Lucy {fearfully), I ain't tech it. You know I ain' 
ben neah you. 

Madison {rushing to her). Gimme de coat. 

{He Snatches the coat ami 'begins going through the 
pockets, from tvme to time searching and slapping the 
garments he is wearing.) Didn't you git it? You mus' 
er tuk it. 

Lucy. No, Madison, I ain' see nor tech it. You watched 
me. 

Madison. Oh, Lawd, he'p me look. 

{He begins to run around the room, looking on the table, 
picking up articles a^d letting them fall, dropping on his 
knees and hunting under the table and chairs. As he 
searches he grows more frantic.) 

Oh, my Lawd, oh, wheah is it? I got to have it. Oh, 
I could n' lose it, hit ain' mine ter lose. Stay by me, 
Lucy, an' he'p me fin' it; git down on youah knees, Lucy. 
Oh, wheah did I drop it? I 'm gittin' old an' needs it. 
Ef I lose dis I lose all my push. I was jes' goin' into 
business an' we all wuz goin' to fly high, I got to fin' 
it. I ain' give up. Lemme think. Oh, I hopes some 
hones' puson foun' it. Lemme come on down — Know I 
put it on dat side 'cause dat de side Mistah Long he wuz on 
— Oh, I '11 go crazy — {He strikes his forehead, groaning.) 

Lucy {starting). Mistah Long! He 's cashiah in de 
Dime Savin 's ! How he give you money ? 

Madison. Oh, lemme see — he gimme de money an' put 
it right in yere. {He fumbles again distractedly in his 
pocket.) 



238 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Lucy {pursuing him desperately). Onliest money at 
de Dime Savin's is de money. You could n't draw hit out. 
You didn' do dat, — you could n'— Tell me if you did fo* 
I '11 fin' it out tomorrer — Oh, tell me true — you could n' 
when it 's in my name — tell me now f o ' I '11 find it out. 

Madison. Oh, I can't stand it. 

Lucy. Ef you wan' me to he'p you den be free wif me. 
How you draw money from de Bank? I give you no 
papeh. You could n' draw de money. 

Madison. Wilson Byrd, he gimme de papeh. 

Lucy. I give him no papeh. 

Madison. He write it fo' you. 

Lucy. Oh, Gawd, dat w'ite man write my name. You 
drawed de money — I see it now. You had dealin's wif a 
fo'geh, Wilson Byrd. 

Madison. Spar' me an' he'p me. He tol' me ef I draw 
de money he 'd take me into business wif him an' gimme 
de guitar besides. 

Lucy. Did you spar' me? Fifty dollahs! You said 
fifty, didn' you? How could you do hit? Moren' six 
months' ha'd slavin'. Six months mo' befo* I can resto' 
it back. I could 'a ' bought de house tomorrer mo 'nin ' an ' 
now hit 's six months off to pay in dat fifty. It was fifty, 
did n' you say? Maybe 'twuzzn' dat much. Tell me right. 
I '11 fin' it out tomorrer. 

Madison. Dis yere '11 kill me ef I can 't think. 

Lucy. How much you, draw? Tell me right. Look 
at me. Were hit fifty? {She holds his eye.) Less? Mo'? 
How much? {She continues to hold his lustreless eyes, 
reading them.) A hunde'd? Two hunde'd? Eight 
hunde'd? {A pa^ise ensues as she reads the truth in his 
face.) All of hit. {She dnJcs in a chair.) Twelve yeahs' 
labor sence I married you an' termorrer I wuz goin' to 



Material for Interpretation 2S9 

mek de payment an' we 'd a bin nndeh owah own roof. 
I 'm done. I could a paid off pa't, mebbe fifty, but I won' 
las' twelve yeabs mo' at de same thing. But I thank Tbee, 
Lawd, dat it wuz stole f 'um us all ef hit had to be stole. 

Madison. Ef I could on'y think. Had hit in de bank 
— felt hit an ' had it on Thu 'd Street — slapped hit an ' had 
it at Joe's house — slapped hit an' had it coming up de 
alley — jes' fo' I clum de hill— lemme see — clum de hill — 
went in th'oo Wilson Byrd's hedge fence — he gimme de 
guitar — scrape my back comin' out — {His face shows 
gradual recollection, and suddenly 'brightens.) I knows 
now! Dat 's hit! In dat white man's yard where he 
gimme de guitar! I wuz jes' goin' to give him de money 
when somebody grabbed him f'um behin'. He give a 
squawk an' skeered me. I run out th'oo his hedge fence 
an' scrape my back. I scrape de pocketbook out. She's 
dere! In dat Wilson Byrd's yard. I '11 git it yit. Watch 
me. (He grabs his hat and runs excitedly toward the 
door.) 

Lucy (rushing toward him). No, sumpin' might hap- 
pen. You might git mix up wif him ergin. Lemme go, 
but I mus' resto' dis guitar at Uncle Williams' as I go 
by his house. I '11 slip it on his porch. Maybe he '11 neveh 
know it wuz gone. Oh, if somebody had seen it heah! 
How could I have stood it? 

(She puts on a shawl and takes up the hag, hut as she 
lays her hand on the door-hnoh a loud Jcnock is heard on 
the door. Both start hack and wait. The knock is re- 
peated. She throws off the shawl, places the hag in a 
corner, and returning to the door, opens it. She greets 
the visitor in a strained voice, almost with a shriek.) 

Uncle Williams! Step in, please. 

(A man enters. The newcomer is old, with white hair 



240 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

and heard. He is probably of Moorish descent. He is 
so small amd weazened as to be almost a dwarfs but his 
whole demeanor indicates great latent power. A strong 
personality, dominating the two others from the first 
instant.) 

Williams. Good evenin', Lucy. 

{He seems to be unaware of the presence of Madison. 
He comes forward with little mincing steps and ow old 
m^n's gesture, then takes off his hat and sees about him. 
The others stand watching him transfixed.) 

Ain' you goin' shut de do', Lucy? I feels draf's. I 'm 
gittin' old an' catches cold easy. Ain' you goin' take 
my hat? (She reaches for it mechamcally, watching him 
apprehensively.) No, de hat — not de stick — ol' pu'son 
like me always need good stout stick er club case er havin' 
faintin' spell — sumpin' to lean on. Now, wheah a cheer, 
better fetch me er cheer fo' feah I might set on sumpin' 
you wouldn't choose fo' me. {8he obeys dumbly and 
brings a chair to him.) Set it neareh. Dat 's right. Now 
gimme youah shouldeh an' ease me down. Ah — {He leans 
heavily on her and sinks totteringly into the chair with 
a great show of feebleness.) Now take a cheer yo'se'f. 
I 'sprize to see a lady standin' an' me takin' my res', old 
ez I is. {She obeys, watching him with doubt and dread.) 
Set it dah, wheah I can see you good. (Madison is stand- 
ing up by the wall, right, gazing at him as though 
paralyzed with fear.) Dah now. We kin be ca'm and 
have a nice talk. Doe§ you know what business I come 
yere fo' tonight? {He pauses.) You does, doesn't you? 

Lucy {almost beside herself with nervous tension). 
You — come to see — ef — {Recovering herself with a mighty 
effort.) Oh, yes, you come to look oveh de stove an' see 
ef you like to buy hit. 



Material for Interpretation 241 

WiiiLiAMS {musingly). M-m. "Well, I reckon — dat 's 
hit. Yes, dey tells me y'all has a wahmin' stove to sell 
an' now katydid cease, fros' ain' fur off, an' I needs hit. 
Is dish yere de one? 

Lucy {rising and rushing toward door at side). No, 
not dat. Hit 's outside — ef you please to step out. 

Williams. Well 'm, I '11 take 'n look her oveh. {She 
hastily lights a candle as he rises and totters in the wrong 
direction.) 

Lucy. Th'oo heah, th'oo heah. De stove 's out in de 
woodshed. {She grasps and guides him.) 

Williams. Ah — well'm. Um hm. I always gives 
things er good lookin' oveh befo' takin' stock in 'm. You 
needn' come erlong. I lived so long in dis house befo' 
you wuz bawn dat I knows my way. Is de stove an easy 
wood eateh? 

Lucy. Yes, yes. {She gives him the candle and almo^ 
pushes him through doorway at; side as she follows him 
out. Madison, who has watched fearfully from a dark 
corner, darts forward and looks after them, listening. He 
then runs toward the door at 'bach hut hesitates before it 
and turns as Lucy comes swiftly in from outer room, clos- 
ing the door softly.) 

Madison. What he say? Do he know? 

Lucy {desperately seizing the hag and pressing it into 
his hands as she turns him again toward doorway at hack). 
Oh, I cain' tell. On'y resto' dis in case he don' know er 
case he do. Now 's de one chance to be hones'. 

Madison. Huh. What erbout dat eight hunderd doUah ? 

Lucy. I don' know. Trus' Gawd an' be hones'. 

Madison. Huh uh. One of us has got to go look fo' dat 
money. 

Lucy. One of us has got to take back de guitar. 



242 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Madison. I 'm goin' fo' de money. 

Lucy. Den I '11 take dis. {She takes up the guitar and 
she and Madison go toward door at hack. Then she halts.) 
Oh, Madison, you can do bofe. One of ns has got to stay 
wif Uncle Williams. But take back de guitar first. 

Madison. All right. I '11 go. An' I ain't played on 
dis heah but twice. {He takes the guitar from her.) 

Lucy. Go now. Can you fin' youah way to his porch 
in de dahk? 

Madison. Will we find de money? Dat 's de p'oblem 
I wants de anseh fo'. 

(Lucy opens door at hack to go out. Madison is at her 
side. Both start hack. Williams stands hefore them in 
the open doorway.) 

Lucy {haltingly, after a pamse). How — ^you like — de 
stove ? 

Williams {entering more vigorously than hefore). 
Well'm befo' we goes any furder we betteh come neareh 
de real p'int and question. I didn't come fo' no stove 
dis night. (Madison shrinks hack into the shadows.) 

Lucy {slowly). Yo' — don' — wan' — 

Williams. No'm. To be sho', I might tek de stove 
one er dese days, but dat ain' my erran' now. Hit 's dis; 
does you know when we mek de bargum about you buying 
dis heah house? 

Lucy. Twelve yeah ago. 

Williams. Gal, you dreamin'! 'T were n't but las^ 
year. 'T were de fus' er Octobah las' year an' I say I 
gives you de refusals for one yeah. 'Membeh dat? 

Lucy. Yassuh. 

Williams. So fur so good. Now does you know what 
day de month dis is ? 

Lucy. Fus' er Octobah. 



Material for Interpretation 24i3 

Williams. Dat 's true as preachin'. Well'm, time's up. 

Lucy. What you mean ? 

Williams. I 'm er man er my wuhd. Pay me de money 
an' tek de house. 

Lucy. Termorrer — 

Williams. No. Termorrer won ' do. 

Lucy. Why you push me so? Oh, please spar' me an' 
wait — wait anutheh day. 

Williams. No, I 'm er business man. I kin sell de 
house fer mo' money termorrer but I hold's to my wuhd 
ter sell it to you. I holds to it an' loses money, but it 
falls due dis day an' night an' I won' stretch it one jump 
er my hea't. 

Lucy. You know — de bank — ain't open — 

Williams. Sign de check fer hit. You kin do dat, 
cain't you? 

Lucy. I — s 'pose — I — kin. 

Williams. Den up an' do hit. Heah's er check, all 
wrote out but de signin'. {She takes the check he pro- 
dMces.) An' heah 's one er dese fountum pins. {She takes 
the pen.) Octobeh fus' — pay to Zek'l Williams — eight 
hunderd doUahs. Des write **Lucy Sparrow." {She 
mechanically turns to do so.) Looks easy, sho'. But de 
law allows hit; dis writin' out money. {He pauses, then 
adds impressively.) Dat is, ef you got de money in de 
bank. Co'se ef de money ain' dah an' you, writes de check 
fer hit de law puts you in State prism. {She stops and 
stares at him. The p^n falls from, her hand and the check 
flutters to the floor.) What de matteh? You wants de 
house, don' you? (Lucy's head sinks.) An' you got de 
money, ain' you? 

Madison. Dat 's de question. {He comes forward out 
of the shadow.) 



244 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

William {seemingly observing Madison far the first 
time during the evening). Why, heighyo, Madison. I bin 
lookin' fer you dis very evenin'. Whah you bin? 

Madison. Bin borne. 

Williams. Sbo'ly not, Madison, sbo'ly not all evenin'? 
Has you ? 

Madison. Yes. 

Williams. Well, ain' dat de wbu'lygig? I wuz lookin' 
fer you at Pratt's sto' at eight o'clock an' day say you 
jes' lef ' dab. You wuz dab, were n't you? 

Madison. No, sub. 

Williams. Well, dere I am fool agin. An' who you 
think done fool me? 

Madison. Dunno. 

Williams. Well sub, 'twere n't no one but — (He 
pauses a momient.) Wilson Byrd. 

Lucy. Byrd! {Springing to her feet with the shock.) 

Williams {after watching the two a moment). So you 
ain' got de money no mo', is you? {They are speechless 
before him.) I knows you ain' ca'se I knows who hds 
got hit. 

Madison {involuntarily). Who? 

Williams. I has. {He observes them and then chuckles 
softly.) I has de money an' de bargum 's closed, fer de 
goods is bin delivered an' dey 're right in dis room in dat 
corner. One guitar at eight hunderd dollahs. Insterments 
comes higher 'n what dey did once but you would have it 
an' now you got it an' everybody 's fixed. 

Madison {groaning and bending over the table). Oh! 

Williams. Yassub, de man what buys guitars at dat 
price su'tinly plays on de golden strings. Eight hunderd 
fer one guitar makes 'm mighty near twenty thousand 
doUehs er dozen. De cos' er livin' is shore gone up but 
ef you mus' you mus'. 



Material for Interpretation 245 

Madison. Oh ! 

Williams. Well, I cain' stay heah, I got er be amblin' 
on. I much erblige ter you to mek youah plans to move 
out er heah fo' I got ter sell de house befo' sundown. 
Well, so long, an' I hopes you gits all de good er youah 
high price music. {He turns again with his feeble old 
man^s step toward the doorway, putting on his hat.) I 
wish y ' all good evenin '. 

Madison {moving toward him with the threatening de- 
termination of despair) . Say, I 've got to have dat money. 
I sees red. I 'm gone bad an' I '11 kill befo' I '11 lose hit. 

(Williams suddenly turns with a swiftness and agility 
astounding in so old a man. Starting forward he confronts 
Madison with such dominance and fire that he seems 
suddenly to tower.) 

Williams. You kill me! You tek money away from 
me! Why, you po' grain er chaff, you don' know me. 
I 'm a king in my own right. I got ways an' means er 
pertecktin' myse'f dat you don' even dream on an' I don' 
need to lay a fingeh on you to do hit. Furdermo' I could 
brain you wif dis stick but ef you cross me I won' be dat 
easy on you. Ef you don' wan wuss'n dat don' cross me 
no furder er youah troubles '11 begin fer fa'r. 

Lucy. Oh, please don' lay nothin' on him. 

Williams. You po' sufferin' gal, I won' lay nothin* 
onto 'im but I 'm to tek sumpin off'n you. I 'm goin' 
tek de burding er dish yere pack er laziness off'n you. 
An' fus' I wants ter show you dish yere piece er papeh. 
{Ee produces a folded document and opens it.) Does you 
know who wrote it? Answeh me. {He shoves the paper 
wnder Madison's eye.) 

Madison. It looks like dat Wilson Byrd's writin'. 

Williams. Yassuh, an' what 's mo' it is dat man's 
writin'. It 's his confession dat he fo'ge Lucy Sparrow's 



24 6 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

name. I saw dat man steal my gnitar an' f oiler ed him 
home. Dah I grabbed him, dah I fonn' de pnrse wif 
Lucy's name inside an' dah I made dat thief write out 
his confession. Knowed so much of his meanness already 
dat he had to do hit. An' now I owns you. Does you 
undehstan' dat? Answeh me. 

IMadison. Yas suh, no suh. 

Williams. Well, I '11 take 'n cl'ar up de myst'ry fer 
you. I got dis confession outer Byrd an' got other things 
ter prove hit an' I kin bring him an' you too, bofe befo' 
de gran' jury. 

Lucy. Oh, my sweet Jesus, save him. {The old man 
stands watching the two hefore him for some time in silence. 
Lucy falls on her knees before him.) Oh, don't sen' 
Madison to de lawyers. 

Williams. No, Lucy, I ain't wishful ter. 

Lucy. You won't? 

Williams. Mebbe not. But fus', les' put all dis talk 
aside dat I bin talkin' up to now. I bin puttin' on an' 
pretendin' in ordeh ter try you bofe an' sif ' de chaff from 
grain in you. I des bin playin' wif you ter see how good 
you is an' how ornry dish yere man er youahn is. Yit I '11 
take an' give him er chance even so, an' I '11 pluck him f 'um 
he bu'nin' ef he f oilers de paf I p'ints out ter him. But 
we all got ter have cl'ar unde 'stan 'in ' 'bout dat. Fus' an' 
fo'mos' youah money is all safe wif me. De house is 
youah'n. 

Lucy. You means you sell it fer de money. 

Williams. In co'se. You didn't speck I 'd steal, too, 
like a w'ite man, did you? I '11 fetch you de deeds fo' hit 
fus' thing in de mo'nin'. 

Lucy. Oh, f u 'give me, I was all mix up. But you won ' 
sen' Madison to de gran' jury neitheh? 



Material for Interpretation 247 

Williams. I say I ain' honin' ter. 

Lucy. Oh, my Maketi, I thank Thee fo' Thy mercy. 

Williams. But I shorely goin' to put dis man er 
youah'n th'oo er tes' ter see whetheh he 's fitten ter keep 
out er jail. Madison, will tek er tes'? 

Madison {humbly). Yassuh. What is it? 

Williams. A guitar. 

Madison. A guitar! 

Williams. Yassuh, dat 's hit, no mo' ner no less. I 'm 
goin ' give you dat guitar — but — dere 's suhtinly goin ' to 
be a string tied to it. You kin take dat guitar, but you got 
to make somethin' outer yourself wif her or back she '11 
come to me. You kin give lessons an' learn folks music or 
you kin write down de music you make, but you got to do 
somethin ' wif it f er Lucy. You got to wake up or I '11 take 
de guitar. Which '11 it be ? Make youah choice. 

jMadison (crushed). I '11 — keep de guitar. 

Williams. An' dat ain' all. You got ter quit runnin' 
wif Byrd an' Byrd wif you, you got ter be a better husban' 
an' you got to min' everything Lucy tells you. Will you 
do hit? 

Madison. Yassuh. 

WiLUAMS. An' you ain' much of er temp'unce man 
neitheh, is you, Madison? 

Madison. I 's a temp 'unce man but I ain ' no frantic. 

Williams. Well, suh, you got ter jine de frantics now. 
No dram drinking at all. Will you quit hit er go ter jail? 

Madison. I '11 quit. 

Williams. Well, dat 's on'y a promise but I '11 shore 
hoi' you to hit er put you behin' de bahs. Why, look heah, 
man, does you know how you stan' pon top er dis yu'th? 
.Does you know how you liken to er tree ? S 'posin' sumpin' 
wif er cool eye like er tree could see you an talk. I cain' 



248 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

jedge you ca'm but er tree could. Tree would look at you 
and say, ''Does dat 'ere man wu'k?" Win' 'ud whispeh, 
''No." "Do lie eat?" "Yas 'n git fat," respon' de win\ 
''Who shines on him?" "His wife," win' say. "Do he 
put fo'th flower an' bless de wife?" say de tree. "No." 
"Do he give shade an' shelteh ter de wife?" say de tree. 
"No." Well, chop 'm down an' bu'n him befo' he rots," 
say de tree. "Dat 's all." But mebby I kin mek mo' of 
him dan dat an' so I '11 try prunin' him an' graftin' some 
good labeh onto him. An' I kin' er think hit '11 sabe him 
yit. Well'm, I must be er goin' now. Hit 's late an' I must 
git my res' fer I got to do a lot er bossin' termorrer an' 
dat 's allers ha'd fer me. Lucy, I '11 fetch you de deeds ter 
de house befo' nine termorrer an' Madison, you kin repo't 
to me at eight o'clock sha'p an' give my little boy a lesson 
on de guitar. You 11 be dah, won 't you ? 

Madison (meekly). Yassuh. 

Williams. Ready to whu'l in an' scratch. 

Madison. Yassuh. 

Williams. Well, den, les' all shek ban's on de noo nes' 
an' de noo aig. (They shake hands. He puts on Ms hat 
and turns to the door.) 

An' dat remin's me, Lucy, you better tell Madison to 
play on dat guitar a plenty tonight because he '11 need music 
fer to Stan' up undeh all de lessons I 'm goin' to lay onto 
him. Well, I wish you good night. I'm er gittin' kin'er 
ole an' I cain' stay up late no mo' without bein' crosser in 
de mornin'. Good night den an' far' you well bofe. Eight 
o'clock, Madison. Good night. (He goes, closing the door 
after him. The pair stand silent for a moment, Madison 
vrith hanging head and\ in deep dejection. ) 

Lucy (throwing her arms around him). Oh, my hus- 
ban', I '11 pray fer you. Don' sorrer now. Git youah res* 



Material for Interpretation 249 

tonight. We kin be hones' now. We 've got de house at 
las' an heah's de guitar. 

Madison. Yassuh, heah's de guitar. {He plays it and 
fondles it. Then hisi face assumes again its melancholy 
look.) 

Lucy. What's de trouble? 

Madison. I don' undestan' dis worl'. If I wants to 
make music why cain't folks lemme alone to make music? 
If I dream a fine dream why is it I always wake up ? Looks 
to me like somebody 's always try in' to crowd me out an' git 
me in a tight place. 

Lucy. You wuz doin' all right till you got mix up 
wif dat white man an' his tricks. De trouble wuz dat dis 
dream of youah 's wuz n 't a good dream. 

Madison. Yes, but not all of my dreams is bad ones. All 
I wants is room to dream my good dreams an' make my 

Bidgely Torrence. 

SPOILING THE BROTH ^ 

{Characters) 

Mrs. Chance (a widow about thirty - eight) . 

Joey Chance (Jier son, a youth about seventeen). 

David Wells {the lodger, about the same age as Mrs. 

Chance). 
'Melia Hammond {a factory girl). 

Scene: Mrs. Chance's kitchen; fire l, doors c and b,, 

dresser rc, kitchen table c, chairs l, against wall and at 

back; plates and dishes, &c. on dresser, clock on chimney 

piece, saucepan simmering on the fire. 

^All acting rights reserved. Permission from Samuel French, 28 
West 38th St., New York City. 



250 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

(Yorkshire Dialect) 

(Joey Chance, a loutish looking youth of hetween six- 
teen and seventeen, is sitting in chair by the fire, gazing at 
the clock and looking very sick. He holds in his hand ct^ 
small bottle with the cork out.) 

Joey. Quarter to six — ^time for another dose. {Lifts 
bottle to his lips, then removes it and reads lahel.) No, it 
wants just a minute to the quarter. The bloke says as how 
I must be exact. {Beads.) ''Love Potion spershully com- 
pounded for Joseph Chance, by Professor Swornorff, the 
inventor of the unrivalled anti-drink pry^rder, one dose 
should be taken exacly twenty-four hours after a rift 'as 
occurred between lovers" — yuss, at 'arf pas' five lars night 
'Melia 'Ammond gave me the go bye for Bert Green, becos 
'e 'ad a gallery pass giv' 'im for the 'ippodrome. I 'd like 
to knock 'is silly 'ead orf if 'e wos n 't 'arf a foot bigger 'n 
me. I took the first dose at 'arf pas ' five exack. ' ' Second 
dose to be taken fifteen minutes later, and the third fifteen 
minutes after that, each one calling on the name of the 
beloved one." {Raises bottle.) 'Melia 'Ammond, I looks 
towards yer, as I 'opes yer 'eart may be turned towards 

me. {Drinks.) Of all the beastly {Half chokes.) Oh, 

'Melia, wot I 'm goin' through fer you! — U^h! {Subsides 
in the chair looking sicker than ever.) 

(Mrs. Chance, a bright cheery looking woman, bustles 
in with a bag for marketing on her arm.) 

IMrs. Chance. Joey ?— Joey ?— Bless the boy, where can 
he be. 

Joey {still feeling sick and sorry from the effects of the 
love potion). 'Ere. 

Mrs. Chance {taking parcels from bag and putting them 
on dresser). Is that a way to speak to yer mother? — 



Material for Interpretation 251 

An' I 've bought a bit extry fer our supper, seein' as it 's 
yer birfday. 

Joey {limply.) 'As yer? 

Mrs. Chance. There's as nice a bit of pickled pork as 
yer could wish to see, an' some winkles an' a nice fat bit 
of 'am. 

Joey {looking as if the mere mention of the things were 
more than he could stand). Is there? 

Mrs. Chance. Well I never, now ! — what 's up with you, 
Joey! what 'ave you been an' done? {Comes down to a 
little L. of tahle.) 

Joey {sulkily). Nothin' . I ain't a bin doin' nothin'. 
Wot should I 'a bin a doin' of? 

Mrs, Chance {anxiously). You ain't bin roun' to the 
*' Seven Stars" agin, 'ave yer, Joey? 

Joey. Wot if I 'ad? I'm a man, ain't I? 

Mrs. Chance. Gettin' on that way, but oh, Joey, don't 
you go and take to the drink. It would nearly break my 
'eart. You must remember 'ow yer father, pore feller — 
{wiping her eyes). But there, 'e 's dead 

Joey. Yus, a good job 

Mrs. Chance {horrified). Joey! {Pauses in her work 
of arranging dishes.) 

Joey. Fer 'im! {Rises and slouches to the door.) 

Mrs. Chance. Now don't yer go away in a temper, Joey. 
I 'm yer mother, an — an — I wants to see yer grow up a 
steady respeckable young man like 

Joey {chanting) . "Our lodger 's sech a nice young man, 
a nice young man is 'e. " I don ' think. 

Mrs. Chance. I 'm sure Mr. Wells 'as bin a real blessing 

to us, an ' wot I should 'ave done without 'is little bit of 

'. rent coming in as reglar as clockwork, I don ' know. It 's a 

great thing fer you, Joey, 'aving sech a good example in 

1 front of yer. 



252 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Joey. 'Ere 'e is, since yer thinks sech a lot on him. 

{Enter David Wells, a well set up, fine specimen of the 
British working man; he carries a carpenter's l)ag.) 

David. Evenin', Mrs. Chance. Evenin', Joey. {Ma/ngs 
up cap.) 

Mrs. Chance. Good evenin', Mr. Wells. 

Joey {sulkily). Evenin'. {He slouches to the door,) 

Mrs. Chance. Where are yer goin', Joey? 

Joey. Aht. {Exits scowling at David.) 

David. Wot 's up ? 

Mrs. Chance. Per'aps the pore boy ain't well. There 's 
a lot of that nasty inferlenzera abaht. I '11 make the boy 
some nice gruel fer 'is supper, like wot I did when he was 
a little lad. {Takes oatmeal from tin on dresser, mixing 
and stirring with water in saucepan, which she then s^ets on 
hoi).) 'E did n't seem to fancy anything that I 'ad bought. 
Fair turned up 'is nose at the pickled pork, and the winkles 
didn't seem to attract 'im neither. 

David. Yer spoilin' that lad, that 's wot yer doin'. 

Mrs. Chance. It 's hard not to. 'E 's all I 've got to spoil 
an' do for. I 'm one of those that must 'ave sutthin' or 
someone to fuss after, an ' 'e 's all I 've got. Bless the man, 
what ever are you starin' at me for like that. Yer can 
smoke if yer wants to. 

David {taking his pipe out and filling it mechanically, 
much too shy to say at the monfient what he wants to). 
Thank you, Mrs. Chance. 

Mrs. Chance. I'm not one to mind the smell of a pipe. 
Out of the way please, Mr. Wells, I just want to put this 
on the 'ob. I don't 'old with objectin' to this an' that an' 
the other that don't really matter. {Futs on saucepan.) 
But I 'm sorry as you thinks I 'm spoilin ' Joey, but 'e 's got 
such a way with 'im ; just like 'is father's w'en 'e happened 
to be sober. 



Material for Interpretation 2 55" 

David. Them as drinks often 'as ways with 'em that 
them as does n 't would give a month 's earnin 's to 'ave. 
Ways of sayin' things that 

Mrs. Chance. That yon 'as n't, Mr. Wells. You 're a 
bit late tonight, ain't you, fer Saturday? (Cros^ses to 
dresser and goes an preparing.) 

David {nervously fidgeting with sonnething in the hag). 
Yer see, it's Joey's birthday 

Mrs. Chance. An' you been buyin' 'im a present. Well, 
I do take it kind of you ! 

David (coyly). It ain't exactly fer 'im — it 's fer you. 
You 're a givin ' 'im presents all the time, and it don 't seem 
fair — so I bought this! (displays with pride a hlue glass 
vase). 

Mrs. Chance. Ain't it beautiful ! But you didn't ought 
to waste yer money like this; you'll be thinkin' of getting 
married one of these days. A nice bright bit of colour 
this '11 make on the chimney, won't it? 

David. I 'd have liked to make it something more — more 
personal like. A — a brooch or a ring, only I did n 't rightly 
feel sure 'ow you 'd take it ! But that is a bit tasty now, 
ain't it? 

Mrs. Chance. Tasty ! It 's fit for a palace. 

David. Glad I 've been able to 'it off your fancy in this 
little matter — I wish as I might in some other. (With an 
oufburst of confidence.) 

Mrs. Chance. I 'm sure Joey '11 like it. I likes to keep 
the 'ome bright and 'appy for 'im, pore lamb, it may 'elp to 
keep 'im away from the *' Seven Stars" or that there 'Melia 
'Ammond, what's always a lookin' after 'im. 

David. Calf love; don't you worry, 'e '11 outgrow it. 
We all goes through it, but it don't 'ardly ever last. It 's 
different with older people, Mrs. Chance. 



"254 Dialects for. Oral Interpretation 

Mrs. Chance. It 's the *' Seven Stars" I mind most 
about. {Turns the vase up.) Wy; it 's all full of 'ay! 
The stuff it 's bin packed in, I suppose. I '11 go and wash it 
out. {Exit R.) 

David. I '11 go and 'ave a wash and brush up f er supper. 
H'm, goin' on the loose, are yer, Joey; breakin' yer mother's 
'eart. I'll soon put a stop to that. {Takes small packet 
from his pocket and readis directions.) ** Professor Swor- 
norff, the distinguished Russian Physician completely de- 
stroys the drink habit, by the use of his unrivalled powder. 
Three packets usually complete a cure. Dissolve 'arf a 
packet at each meal in the patient's food." {Looks romnd 
cautimisly.) 'Ere goes. 'Arf a packet! {Putting powder 
in saucepan.) Blest if it ain't all gone in! Maybe it will 
cure 'im all the quicker. {Stirs.) 

{Enter Mrs. Chance, r. drying vase.) 

Mrs. Chance. So you ain't gone yet. 

David. I thought as 'ow the gruel was goin ' to boil over ! 
{Stirring.) 

Mrs. Chance. There 's not many men so thoughtful as 
you, Mr. Wells. Don 't your present look beautiful, now it 's 
clean. {Puts vase on chimney piece.) 

David. I shall be more of a match for it by supper time. 
{Goes to door r. then returns^) Mrs. Chance! 

Mrs. Chance. Yes, Mr. Wells? 

David {with some nervousness) . Supposin' it 'ad bin a 
ring I 'd brought, would you ha ' took it ? 

Mrs. Chance {slowly). There's Joey to be thought of, 
Mr. Wells. {Comes c.) 

David. 'E 's earnin ' 'is own money now, ain 't 'e ? "^ 
Eighteen shillin' a week 'e gets, don't 'e? 'E could live 
'ere with us just the same. I 'm a steady chap on the 'ole, 
Sarah ! 



Material for Interpretation 9>55 

Mes. Chance {thoughtfully and with a touch of emo- 
tion) . Yes ; you Ve been steady enough all the time you 've 
beei;! 'ere. 

David. Three years come Christmas. It was a lucky 
day for me when I saw the card in your window, ''Lodg- 
ings for a respectable single man. ' ' 

Mrs. Chance {turning towards him half shyly). And 
I think it was a lucky day for me. 

David {embracing her). Sarah! {He holds her away 
from, him and looks at her laughingly.) Church or Reg- 
istry ? 

Mrs. Chance. Church, please, David. I always did 
hold with Church ; it 's more stylish like. 

David. Then to-morrow three weeks, Sarah? 

Mrs. Chance. Well, you are in an 'urry! But I don't 
mind. 

David. Rahnd I goes to the Vicarage after supper! 
Nah, that 's settled — Sarah! {Tenderly.) 

Mrs. Chance {pushing him of laughing). You go away 
and let me get supper ready. {Bustles alout.) 

David {returning) . So that I 11 get round to the Vicar- 
age the sooner. 

Mrs. Chance. Oh, get along with you. 

{Exit David, r. Mrs. Chance hustles about singing to 
herself ; stirs the contents of the saucepan and is laying 
the table when Joey returns more miserable than ever, with 
his cap well pulled down over his left eye. He slouches 
over to the fire and sits staring into it.) 

Mrs. Chance. Back again, Joey. 

Joey. Yus. 

Mrs. Chance. Supper 's almost ready. 

Joey. Don't w^ant no supper. 

Mrs. Chance. I do 'ope it ain't the inferlenza, Joey. 
{Anxiously.) 



256 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Joey {pulling his cap down more firmly). No, it ain't. 

Mrs. Chance. I'm cookin' a little sometliing special for 
you in that there saucepan; you just give it a stir now an* 
then to keep it from burnin', while I puts this lettuce under 
the tap to fresh it up a bit. {Exit e.) 

Joey {stirs the gruel obediently, then seeing he is alone 
takes the small bottle from his pocket and pours the coti- 
tents in). P'raps it won't taste so filthy in sutthin' else. 
'Melia 'Ammond, be mine, and give Bert Green the chuck ! 
— is what I wish. 

{Enter David cleaned and tidied, b.) 

David. Sarah, old girl, I've just thought 

Joey. 'Oo are you callin' Sarah! If it 's my mother, 
I 'd 'ave you to know 

David. Of course it 's 'er. 

Joey. I don't see as there's no '*in course" about it. 

David, y^'y, ain't she told yer 

Joey. No, she ain 't told me. Wot can she 'ave to tell me 
abaht you? 

David. Why, that she an' me are goin' to be married. 

Joey {utterly amazed). What! An old woman like 'er? 

David {stoutly). She ain't old! She 's goin' to be my* 
old woman — ^but she ain't old! An' she's yer mother an' 
don't you fergit it, or I '11 come the 'eavy father over 
yer, my lad. 

Joey. Oh, you will, will yer? An' if yer marries 'er, 
w'ere am I to bring my missus w'en I marries, eh? 

David. You're too young to marry yet awhile, Joey: I 
don't approve o' these young marriages. You wait till 
you 're my age, my lad. 

Joey {s^quaring up to him fiercely). An' you jolly well 
keep your blooming advice till you 're asked for it. 

{Enter Mrs. Chance with the lettuce on a plate. She 
looks at the two men amazed, hut tactfully takes no notice.) 



Material for Interpretation 257 

Mrs. Chance. 'Ere 's the lettuce, an' now we can all sit 
down nice an' comferble to supper. Bless me, if I ain't 
forgot the beer! 

David {taking jug from dresser). I '11 go round and get 
some. 

Mrs. Chance (aside). 'Ave yer told 'im? 

David (aside). Yus. Don't you fret, it '11 be all right. 
(Aloud.) Shan't be long, Sarah. (Exit c.) 

Mrs. Chance. Quite a nice birthday party for yer, Joey, 
if you was n 't so poorly. 

Joey (his arms on chimney piece and head hent). Can't 
yer leave a fellow alone, mother? (Goes rc. slowly.) 

Mrs. Chance (l. of tahle). "Well, well; I can under- 
stand you feelin' it a bit. But I don't care any the less for 
yer, Joey, an' don't yer never think it. (Comes to him, put- 
ting her hands on his shoulders.) An' some day, maybe, 
you '11 be gettin' married to some nice steady respec'able 
girl, an' we can all live together as 'appy an' comferble. 
(Removes his cap and touches his hair tenderly.) Wy, 
wotever 'ave yer been doin'; not fightin', 'ave yer? 

Joey (who has winced at her touch on the bruise). Yus. 

Mrs. Chance. Not — not with David? (Anxiously.) 

Joey. Nah, chap in the street. 

Mrs. Chance. Wy? What 'ad 'e done? You didn't 
ought to be so suddent like as you are, Joey. (Gets^ hasin 
of water and towel from dresser. ) 

Joey (gruffly). 'E said as 'ow I didn't know enough to 
keep 'er. An' all the time it only was 'e 'd been give two 
gallery passes for the 'Ippidrome. 

Mrs. Chance. 'Oos 'er? Not that feather 'eaded 'ussy, 
'Melia 'Ammond? 

Joey. Now don't you go saying nothin' against 'Melia. 
One o' these days I 'm goin' to marry 'er. 

Mrs. Chance. Sit there an' keep yer 'ead still w'ile I 



258 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

bathes it. {Pushes Joey into chair, rc.) First time I've 
heard o' you gettin' married. 

Joey. "Well, it won't be the last. I 'm — I'm goin' to 
marry 'Melia if — if I dies for it. So there ! 

Mrs. Chance. Bless the boy! "W'y can't you keep yer 
'ead still. 

Joey. You need n 't think you 're the only one as can do 
things on the quiet ! 

Mrs. Chance. There — there, Joey, don 't say that ! I 'd 
as it were not known, an' yet I 'ad known for a long time 
— but it won't make no difference between you an' me. 
That I promise. 

Joey {completely immersed in his own affairs) . 1 believe 
I 'd take poison to win a kind glance from 'Melia. ( Glances 
at hroth.) 

Mrs. Chance. Now don't you go talkin' like those silly 
poitry books. An' so it 's because of 'Melia you 'its out at 
this chap in the street. 'Oo was it ? 

Joey. Bert Green, what 'olds the Bantam lightweight 
medal of the Camberwell Beauties. 

Mrs. Chance {admiringly). Well, you are a good 
plucked 'un ! Not that I 'olds with fightin ', mind yer, Joey. 
An' so you ups an' 'its 'im? 

Joey. Yus. Leastways, I 'its at 'im. But 'e was too 
suddent like f er me. 

Mrs. Chance. Pore feller! {Putting hasin on side.) 
There, you '11 do now. You shall 'ave a drop of gin in yer 
supper to-night. 

Joey {goes to fire and stirs the gruel). I dunno as I 
wants it. 

{Enter David with heer. He puts the jug on the table.) 

Mrs. Chance. Oh, yus yer do; there's nothin' like a 
drop of gin w'en yer not feelin' quite the thing. 

David. D 'you think 'e 'd better, mother? {Anxiously.) 



Material for Interpretation 259 

Not if 'e don 't want it ? It 's no use f orcin ' the pore feller 
as it were. 

Mrs. Chance (cheerfully). 'E don't want no f orcin'. 
Do yer, Joey ? You just 'ave a little drop to g"ive the gruel 
a taste. 

Joey (shivering). I — dunno — I — I think it '11 do very 
well as it is. Taste and all. 

Mes. Chance. Oh, nonsense; you ought to 'ave it to 
sort of drink our 'ealths. Me and David '11 dvink yours in 
the supper beer. (Fours the gruel into small howl and sets 
it on tahle b.) You '11 carve the pork, David. (Pours gin 
into gruel.) Now we '11 all sit up to the table and be the 
'appiest and j oiliest little party in Camberwell. (They sit 
at table: Mrs. Chance c, David l., Joey r.) 

David. 'Ave a slice of pork, Joey? It looks first rate. 
(Carving.) 

Joey (who has tasted the gruel cautiously hut with deter- 
mination). No; I think — I — I don't want anything else. 
I '11 sit by the fire and drink this. (Sits l., drinking the 
gruel with every appearance of heroic determination and 
distaste.) 

Mrs. Chance. Sorry you feel so porely, Joey. Well, you 
'ave given me a large 'elpin', Mr. Wells. 

David. David ! 

Mrs. Chance (coquettishly) . David! 

David (gallantly) . I 'elps yer, as I loves yer — Sarah! 

Mrs. Chance. WeU, I never knew such a feller as you 
are for sayin' things. My old old man never did. (Helps 
him to salad.) 

David. 'Ere, whoa! 'Old on a bit ; don 't you givin ' me 
all the garden stuff. Wot do you say to goin ' to the Empire 
or the Palace this evenin ' ? 

Mrs. Chance. Oh, David ; that would be nice ! 



260 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

David. Stalls, second 'ouse. 

Mrs. Chance (firmly)' No, David, no extravagance. 
Upper circle, first 'ouse. Oh, it will be nice ; I do like a 
music 'all. I thinks it 's just like 'eaven, an' with you 
there, too! 

David. If we goes to-night, we goes to stalls. I want to 
show the fellers what bloomin' fatheads they were to leave 
a jolly little woman like you a widow for so long. 

Mrs. Chance. I couldn't ha' married befor', because 
of Joey; but now 'e 's grovm up, an' it 's different. Oh, 
David, I am glad you came to stay 'ere as a respec'able 
single man! {Cries a little.) 

David. There, there! There's nothin' to cry about, you 
silly. 'Ere, 'ave a drop of beer. (Pouring onitheer.) We '11 
all drink your 'ealth. 'Ere, Joey! (Going to him with 
glass. ) Drink our good 'ealth ; an ' when your time comes, 
we '11 do the same by you. 

(Joey, who. has sunk ir4o a siate of unconsciousness, naU 
urally returns no answer.) 

Mrs. Chance. Msfy don't you answer, Joey? Yer not 
sulking, are yer? 

David (standing hehind and a little above Joey). I — I 
think he 's asleep — Mother. (Nervously.) 

Mrs. Chance. Asleep! Wake up, Joey, and drink our 
'ealths. (Shaking him.) 

David (nervously). W'at — ^w'at 's come to 'im, do you 
think? 

Mrs. Chance. Blest if I know ! Joey — ^Joey— What 's 
wrong with you ? 

(Joey rolls on- to the floor.) 

David. P 'raps 'e 's .'ad a drop too much. You did give 
'im a good drop of gin for 'is cold. 

Mrs. Chance. W'y 'is 'ead 's stronger than that, pore 



Material for Interpretation 261 

lamb. 'Ere, let 's loose 'is neck cloth. Joey — Joey — Don't 
you 'ear me? {Pause. Then with a sudden inspiration 
picks up the howl and tastes the contents.) Ugh ! Run for 
the doctor! 'E 's poisoned! My Joey 's poisoned! 

David (staggering hack against the tahle). What! I 
never meant no 'arm ! That I did n 't ! They 're guaran- 
teed 'armless! 

Mrs. Chance. Oh, Joey ; my pore Joey ! You 've piz- 
ened 'im. You 'ave, I can see it in your fice. 'Ow did yer 
do it? (Kneeling l.) 

David (kneeling r. of Joey). 'Is 'eart 's all right! 

Mrs. Chance. You get away ! 'Ow did you do it, you — 
you — oh! An' I thought you so respectable! 'Ow did yer 
do it? 

David (repeats miserably). They was guaranteed 'arm- 
less. 

Mrs. Chance (angrily). 'Ow, don't keep on sayin' that! 
Wot was ? 

David. Professor Swornorff's unrivalled Drink Cure. 
'Ere 's another packet, yer can see for yerself. Sarah, I 
knoo 'ow worritted yer was sometimes because 'e seemed to 
'ave a bit of a likin ' for a drop, an ' — an ' by accident I give 
'im an 'ole packet in 'is gruel instead of 'alf. That 's all. 

Mrs. Chance. If my Joey dies, I '11 never speak to you 
again as long as I live. 

David. 'E ain't dead, not 'im. Look, 'is colour 's comin' 
back. 

Joey (groaning and sitting up very dazed) . 'Melia ! 

Mrs. Chance (clasping him in her arms) . My boy ! My 
boy! 

Joey (embracing her fervently). 'Melia! Then the 
spell 's worked ! Oh, 'Melia ! 

Mrs. Chance. Oh, 'e 's raving ! 



262 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

David. That ain't 'Melia, it 's your mother you Ve got 
'old of. Stop it! 

Joey. 'Melia! (Listening.) 

(Loud rap at door c.) 

Joey. That 's 'Melia ! The potion 's brought 'er ^ere ! 
Let 'er in. (Rises.) 

Mrs. Chance (almost sohling). 'E 's gone dotty! Joey 
dear, that ain't 'Melia; it 's just yer ain't feelin' quite 
right in yer 'ead. 

David (awestruck) . There is someone there. 

(Eap repeated, and almost mithout a pause 'Melia 'Am- 
MOND, a smart handsome girl in a furious temper, bounces 
in.) 

'Melia. Well, Mrs. Chance, I do think as w'en a lidy 
comes to see another lidy, as the fust lidy might do 'er the 
favour of tiking a little notice on 'er. 

Mrs. Chance. Joey ain't very well, an' 

'Melia (continuing). — ^but it 's only w'at I should ex- 
pect of the mother of that. (Contemptuously.) 

Joey. .'Melia, you 'ave come. 

'Melia. Shut yer silly fice till I Ve done talkin'. 

Mrs. Chance. Out o' my 'ouse, you 'og! Call yorseK a 
lidy, you owdacious 

'Melia. Oh, I 'm goin' fast enough, Mrs. Chance, when 
I 've said what I wants to say to Mr. Joey Chance there. 

Joey (feeUy). 'Melia! 

'Melia. Miss 'Ammond if you please; and I 11 thank 
you not to speak to me in future. I '11 tike it as a per- 
sonal insult if yer does. Yer miserable little presumin' 
worm. 

David. 'Old 'ard now, Miss 'Ammond! Wot 's the 
good of callin' names. 

'JVIelia (with great contempt) . This ain't no concern of 



Material for Interpretation 263 

yours, and I '11 thank you not to open your mouth in case 
yer puts yer foot in it. 

Mrs. Change. Now look 'ere, Miss 'Ammond, this is my 
'ouse and 

'Melia. An' you look 'ere, Mrs. Chance, I '11 say wat I 
came to say, if I stops 'ere a week. (To Joey.) Wot call 
'ad you to go 'itting of my bloke ? 

Joey {apologetically). 'Melia! I — Oh, lor, my 'eadl 
(Rocking.) 

'Melia. Keep still — yer gives me the fidgets! 

Joey. Yes, 'Melia! {Sits on arm of chair, lc.) 

'Melia. It was a piece of imperence, that 's wat it wos ! 

Blooming imperence, and don't you dare to speak to me 

. again, so there. A little miserable shrimp like you to go a 

> 'ittin' of the Bantam Lightweight Medal 'older of the 

Camberwell Beauties 1 Yah ! 

David. You must say as it was plucky. Miss 'Ammond. 

'Melia. Plucky! Just foolishness and conceit — and I 
don't 'old with such! I 've done with 'im. {Jerking her 
head at Joey.) 

Joey {pulling himself together). An' — an' I 'm done 
with you, 'Melia 'Ammond. Keep wot I 've gived yer 
towards yer feather club, an' go out with yer Bantam if yer 
likes. As for me, I '11 smash up that old Professor 
Swornorff 

David. Swornorff ! I '11 help yer. 

Joey. — An' 'is 'ole bag of tricks, if I does a six months' 
stretch for it ! 'Ere 'ave I 'arf poisoned myself with this 
'ere blooming love charm. {Holding up bottle.) 

David. Eh? 

Mrs. Chance. Joey? {Simultaneously with David.) 

Joey. — ^Wot was to make you care for me, 'Melia. 



264 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

'Melia (with a touch of remorse). I always knew you 
was soft, Joey. 

Joey. I ain't soft no longer. I 'm as 'ard as you are. 

Mrs. Chance. An' now per'aps you '11 go, Miss 'Am- 
mond. {Opens door.) 'Aving got wot you corned to say 
off your chest. 

'Melia. Yes, I 'm goin'. 

Joey. An' I 'opes yer '11 enjoy the 'Ippidrome. (With 
repressed emotion.) 

'Melia. I 'opes so, Mr. Chance. 

Joey. An' w'en I 'm in quod for smashin' up Swornorff 
and 'is stall, I 'opes you '11 enjoy the thoughts of that. It 
might even come to murder. (Hitching his collar suggest- 
ively.) 

'Melia (turning 'bach) . Oh, Joey, no ! No, yer would n't. 
Oh, Joey, not that — please Joey. 

Joey. You 've made me 'ard, and 'ard I stays ! 

'Melia. But not murder ! I did n 't think it of you, Joey. 
Oh, yer can't. Oh, Joey; I 'd never forgive myself if you 
went and got stretched for a measley foreigner ! Oh ! Oh ! 
(Flings her arms round him.) 

Joey (embracing her). 'Melia! Cheer up! Yer goin' 
to stick to me ? 

'Melia. Yus, Joey. (Sobbing.) 

David. Seems as if there might be some good in that 
there potion arter all ! 

Bertha N. Graham, 



Material far Interpretation 265 

''THE PHILOSOPHER OF BUTTERBIGGENS"^ 

(Characters) 
David Pirnie 
Lizzie; his daughter. 
John Bell, his son-in-law. 
Alexander, John^s little son. 

John Bell's tenement at Butt erhigg ens ^ consists of the 
very usual ^^two rooms, kitchen and 'bath," a con- 
cealed bed in the parlour and another in the kitchen, 
enabling him to house his family — consisting of him- 
self, his wife, his little son, and his aged father-in-law 
— therein. The kitchen and living room is a. good-sized 
sjquare room. The right wall {our right as we look at 
it) is occupied by a huge built-in dresser, sink, and 
coal bunker; the left wall by a high-mantled, ovened 
cCyid boiler ed fireplace, the recesS'On either side of which 
co^iains a. low painted cupboard. Over the far cup- 
hoiard hang'S a picture, of a ship, but over the near one 
is a small square window. The far wall has two large 
doors in it, that on the right leading to the lobby, and 
thai o-n the left appertaining to the old father-in-law ^s 
concealed bed. 

The walls are distempered ^ a brickish red. The ceil- 
ing once wa's white. The floor is covered with bright 
linoleum and a couple of rag rugs — one before the fire 

^ ' ' The Philosopher of Butterbiggens ' ' is fully protected by copy- 
right, and all rights are reserved. 

Permission to act, read publicly, or make any use of it must be 
obtained from Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York, 
N. Y. 

^ Distempered — calcimined. 

* Butterbiggens is a suburb of Glasgow. 



^66 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 



large one — and one smaller one before the door of 
the concealed hed. 

A deal tahle is just to r. of center, a long flexible 
gas hracket depending frowi the ceiling above it. An- 
other many-jointed gas-bracket projects from the mid- 
dle of the high mantle-piece, its flame turned down 
towards the stove. There are wooden chairs at the 
table, ahove, below, and to l. of it — the latter chair be- 
ing in the centre. A high-backed^ easy -chair is above 
the fire, a kitchen elbow chair below it. 

The kitchen is very tidy. A newspaper newly fallen 
to the rug before the fire and another — an evening one 
— spread fiat on the table are {besides a child's mug 
and plate also on the table) the only things not stowed 
in their prescribed places. It is evening — the light be- 
yond the little square window being the grey dvmnes^ 
of a long Northern twilight which slowly deepens dur- 
ing the play. When the curtain rises it is still light 
enough in the room for a man to read if the print be 
not too faint and his eyes be good. The ivarm light of 
the fire leaps and flickers through the grey, showing 
up with exceptional clearness the deep-lined face of old 
David Pirnie, who is discovered half-risen from his 
arm-chair above the fire, standing on the hearth-rug^ 
his body bent amd his hand on the chair arm. He is a 
little feeble old man with a well-shaped head and 
weather-beaten face set off by a grizzled beard and 
whiskers wiry and vigorous in curious contrast to the 
wreath of snowy hair that encircles his head. His 
upper lip is shaven. He wears an old suit — the waist- 
coat of which being unbuttoned shows an old flannel 
shirt. His slippers are low at the heel and his socks 
loose at the ankles. 



Material for Interpretation ^67 

The old man's eyes are fixed appealingly on those 
of his daughter, who stands in the half -op en door, her 
grasp on the handle, meeting his look squarely — a 
straight -1) rowed. Mack-haired, determined young wo- 
man of dx or seven and twenty. Her husland, John", 
seated at the table in his shirt -sleeves, with his head in 
his hands, reads hard at the paper and tries to look 
unconcerned. 

David. Aw — but Lizzie! 

Lizzie {with splendid firmness). It 's nae use, Fej^ther. 
I 'm no gaein' to gie in to the wean.^ Ye 've been tellin^ 
yer stories to him nicht after nicht for dear knows how long 
and he 's gettin' to expect them. 

David. Why should he no ' expect them ? 

Lizzie. It disna do for weans to count on things so. 
He 's layin' up a sad disappointment for himself yin o'' 
these days. 

David. He 's gettin ' a sad disappointment the no \ Och, 
come on, Lizzie! I 'm no' gaein' to die just yet an' ye 
can break him off gradually when I begin to look like to. 

Lizzie. Wha's talkin' of yer diein', Feyther? 

David. Ye were speakin' o' the disappointment he was 
layin' up for himself if he got to count on me. 

Lizzie. I wasna thinkin' o' yer diein', Feyther — only 
— it 's no guid for a bairn 

David. Where's the harm in my giein' him a bit story 
before he gangs tae his bed ? 

Lizzie. I 'm no ' sayin there 's ony harm in it this yinst ^ 
Feyther; but it 's no richt to gae on nicht after nicht wi' 
never a break 

^Wean or bairn, small child. 
^ Yinst = once. 



268 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

David. Whit wey is it no richt if ther 's nae harm in it ? 

Lizzie. It 's giein' in to the wean. 

David. Whit wey should ye no' gie in to him if there 's 
nae harm in it ? 

Lizzie {keeping her patience with difficulty) . Because it 
gets him into the habit. 

David. But why should he no' get into the habit if 
there 's no harm in it ? 

(John, at the table, chuckles. Lizzie gives him a look, 
hut he meets it not.) 

Lizzie. Really, Feyther, ye micht be a wean yerself 
ye 're that persistent. 

David. No, Lizzie, I 'm no' persistent. I 'm reasonin' 
wi' ye. Ye said there was nae harm in my tellin' him a wee 
bit story an' now ye say I 'm not to because it '11 get him 
into the habit, an' what I 'm asking ye is where 's the 
harm o' his gettin' into the habit if there 's nae harm 
in it? 

Lizzie. Oh, aye; ye can be gay clever, twisting the 
words in my mouth, Feyther; but richt 's richt, and 
wrang 's wrang for a ' yer cleverness. 

David {earnestly). I 'm no' bein' clever ava,^ Lizzie — 
no' the noo — I 'm just trying to make ye see that if ye 
admit there 's nae harm in a thing ye canna say there 's 
ony harm in it an' {pathetically) — I 'm wan tin' to tell wee 
Alexander a bit story before he gangs to his bed. 

John {aside to her). Och, wumman 

Lizzie. T 'ts, John, ye 'd gie in tae onybody if they were 
just persistent enough. 

John. He 's an auld man. 

Lizzie {really exasperated) . I ken fine he 's an auld man, 
John, and ye 're a young yin, an' Alexander 's gaein' to be 

* Ava = at all. 



Material for Interpretation 269 

anitlier, an' I 'm a lone wumman among the lot o' ye. But 
11 'm no ' gaein ' to gie in to 

John {hringing a fresh mind to hear upon the argu- 
ment). Efter a', Lizzie, there 's nae harm 

Lizzie {almost with a scream of anger). Och! Now 
you 've stairted, have you ? Harm ! Harm ! Harm ! 
You 're talkin' about harm and I 'm talking about richt 
and wrang. You 'd see your son grow up a drunken keelie 
an' mebbe a thief an' a murderer so long as you could say 
there was nae harm in it. 

David {expostulating with some cause). But I cudna 
say there was nae harm in that, Lizzie, an' I wudna. Only 
when there 's nae harm 

Lizzie. Och!! {Exits of to the cause of the troutle). 
Are ye in yer bed yet, Alexander? {Shuts door with a 
click.) 

David. {Standing on hearthrug and, shaking his head 
more in sorrow than in anger). She 's no' reasonable, ye 
ken, John, she disna argue fair. I 'm no ' complainin o ' her 
mither, but it 's a wee bit thing hard that the only twa 
women I 've known to be really chatty an' argumentative 
with should have been just like that. An' me that fond o' 
women's society. {He lowers himself into his chair.) 

John. They 're all like it. 

David {judicially) . I wudna go sae far as to say that, 
John. Ye see I 've only kent they twa to study carefully 
— an it 's no fair to judge the whole sex by just the twa ex- 
amples an' it were — {running on) but it 's gey hard an' 
I was wantin' to tell wee Alexander a special fine story the 
nicht. {Removes glasses and blinks his eyes.) Aweel!! 

John {comforting). Mebbe the morn 

David. If it 's no' richt the nicht it '11 be no' richt the 
mom's nicht. 



270 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

John. Ye canna say that, Feyther. It wasna wrang 
last nicht. 

David {hitterly), Mebbe it was an' Lizzie had no' found 
it out. 

John. Ah, noo, Feyther, dinna get saurcastic. 

David {between anger and tears, weakly). I canna help 
it. I 'm black affronted. I was wantin' to tell wee Alex- 
ander a special fine story the nicht an' now here 's Lizzie 
wi' her richt 's richt an' wrang 's wrang. Och! There 's 
no reason in the women. 

John. We has to gie in to them, though. 

David. Aye. That 's why. 

{There is a pause. The old man picks up his paper 
again and settles his glasses on his nose. John rises 
and with a spill from the mantelpiece lights the gas 
there, which he then bends to throiu the light to the old 
man's advantage.) 

David. Thank ye, John. Do ye hear him? 

John {erect on hearth rug). Who? 

David. Wee Alexander. 

John. No. 

David. Greetin' his heart out. 

John. Och, he 's no' greetin'. Lizzie 's wi' him. 

David. I ken fine Lizzie's wi' him, but he 's greetin' for 
a ' her. He was wantin ' to hear yon story o ' the kelpies up 
to Cross Hill wi' the tram {breaking his mood impa- 
tiently). Och! 

John {crossing to table and lighting up there). It 's 
gettin' dark g&j early. We '11 shin be haein' tea by the 
gas. 

David {rustling his paper). Aye. {Suddenly.) There 
never was a female philosopher, ye ken, John. 

John. Was there no? 



Material for Interpretation 271 

David. No. {Angrily in a gud.) An' there never will 
be! {Then more calmly.) An' yet there 's an awful lot 
of philosophy about women, John. 

John. Aye ? 

David. aye. They 're that unreasonable, an' yet ye 
canna reason them down, an' they 're that weak an' yet 
ye canna make them gie in to ye. Of course ye '11 say ye 
canna reason doon a stane or make a clod o' earth gie in 
tae ye. 

John. Willi? 

David. Aye. An' ye '11 be richt. But then I '11 tell ye 
a stane will na answer ye back, an' a clod o' earth will na 
try to withstand ye, so how can ye argue them down? 

John {convinced). Ye canna. 

David. Richt. Ye canna. But a wumman will answer 
ye back, an' she will stand against ye, an' yet ye canna 
argue her down though ye have strength an ' reason on your 
side an she 's talkin' naething but blether about richt 's 
richt and wrang 's wrang an' sendin' a poor bairn off t' 
his bed i' the yin room an' leavin' her auld feyther all alone 

by the fire in anither an' — ye ken Philosophy 

{He ceases to speak and wipes his glasses again.) 

(John, intensely trembled^ tiptoes up to the door avid 
opens it a foot. The wails of Ai>exander can he heard, 
muffled hy a further door. John calls off.) 

John. Lizzie. 

(Lizzie immediately comes into sight outside the door 
with a ^^shsh.^') 

John. Yer feyther 's greetin'. 

Lizzie {with a touch of exasperation) . Och, I 'm no 
heedin'. There 's anither wean in there greetin' too, an' 
I 'm no heedin' him neither, an' he 's greetin' twicet as 
loud as the auld yin. 



272 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

John (shocked). Ye 're heartless, wumman. 

Lizzie {with patience). No. I 'm no heartless, John, 
but there 's too much heart in this family an' someone 's 
got to use their heid. 

(David cranes round the side of his chair to catch what 
they are saying. She stops and cmnes to him Mndly, 
hut with womanly firmness.) 

Lizzie. I 'm vexed ye should be disappointed, Feyther, 
but ye see, don't ye 

(A singularly piercing wail from Alexander goes up. 
Lizzie rushes to silence him.) 

LtizziB. Mercy! The neighbours v^ill think we 're mur- 
derin' him. {The door closes behind her.) 

David {nodding for a space as he revolves the woman's 
attitude). Ye hear that, John? 

John. Whit? 

David {with quiet irony). She 's vexed I should be dis- 
appointed. The wumman thinks she 's richt! Wummen 
always think they 're richt — mebbe it 's that makes them 
that obstinate. — {With a ghost of a twinkle.) She 's feart 
o' the neighbours, though. 

John {stolidly) . Ah, women are feart o' the neighbours. 

David {reverting). Puir, wee mon. I telt ye he was 
greetin', John. He 's disappointed fine. {Pondering.) 
D 'ye ken what I 'm thinkin', John? 

John. Whit ? 

David. I 'm thinkin ' he 's too young to get his ain wey 
an' I 'm too auld an' it 's a fine thocht. 

John. Aye ? 

David. Aye. I never thocht of it before, but that 's 
what it is. He 's no' come to it yet, an' I 'm past it. {Sud- 
denly.) What 's the most important thing in life, John? 

(John opens his mouth and shuts it again, unused.) 



Material for Interpretation 273 

David. Ye ken perfectly well. What is it ye 're wantin* 
a' the time?" 

John. Different things. 

David (satisfied). Aye — different things! But ye want 
them a ', do ye no ' ? 

John Aye. 

David. If ye had yer ain wey ye 'd hae them, eh ? 

John. I wud that. 

David {triumphant). Then is that no' what ye want? 
Yer ain wey? 

John (enlightened). Losh! 

David (wwrming to it). That 's what life is, John — 
gettin' yer ain wey. First ye 're born an' ye canna dae 
anything but cry, but God 's given yer mither ears an' ye 
get yer wey by juist cry in' for it — (hastily anticipating 
criticism) I ken that 's no' exactly in keepin' wi what I 've 
been sayin' aboot Alexander — but a new-born bairnie 's 
an awfu' delicate thing an' the Lord gets it past its infancy 
by a dispensation o' Providence very unsettling to our 
poor human understandings. Ye '11 notice the weans cease 
getting their wey by juist greetin' for it as shin as they 're 
auld enough to seek it otherwise. 

John. The habit hangs onto them, whiles. 

David. It does that — (with a twinkle). An, mebbe if 
God 's given yer neighbours ears an' yer live close ye '11 get 
yer wey by a dispensation o' Providence a while longer. 
But there 's things yer '11 hae to do for yourself gin ye 
want to — an' ye will — ye '11 want to hold out yer hand, 
an' yer will hold out yer hand, an' ye '11 want to stand 
up an' walk an' ye will stand up an' walk, an' ye '11 want 
to dae as ye please an' ye will dae as ye please, an' then 
ye are practised an' learnt in the art of gettin' yer ain 
wey — an' ye 're a man! 



27^ Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

John. Man, Feyther, ye 're wonderful ! 

David {complacently) . I 'm a pMlosopher, Jolin. But 
it goes on mebbe. 

John. Aye ? 

David. Aye. Mebbe ye think ye 'd like to make itber 
folk miad ye an' yer wey an' ye try, an' if it comes off 
ye 're a big man an' mebbe the master o' a vessel wi' three 
men and a boy under ye as I was, John. (Dropping into 
the minor.) An' then ye come down the hill. 

John {apprehensively). DoonthehiU? 

David. Aye — down to mebbe want in' to tell a wean a 
bit story before he gangs tae his bed, an' ye canna dae even 
that. An' then a while more an' ye want to get to yer 
feet an' ye canna, an' a while more an' ye want to lift up 
yer hand an' ye canna — an' in a while more ye 're just 
forgotten an' done wi'. 

John. Aw, Feyther! 

David. Dinna look sae troubled, John. I 'm no afraid 
to die when my time comes. It 's these hints that I 'm done 
wi' before I 'm dead that I dinna like. 

John. What'n hints? 

David. "Well — Lizzie an' her richt's richt an' wrang 's 
wrang when I think o' telling wee Alexander a wee bit 
story before he gangs tae his bed. 

John {gently). Ye are a wee thing persistent, Feyther. 

David. No, I 'm no persistent, John. I 've gied in. 
I 'm a philosopher, John, an' a philosopher kens when he 's 
done wi. 

John. Aw, Feyther! 

David {getting lower and lower). It 's gey interesting, 
philosophy, John, an' the only philosophy worth thinkin' 
about is the philosophy of growin' auld — ^because that 's 
what we 're a' doing, all living things. There 's nae 



Material for Interpretation 275 

philosophy in a stane, John; he 's juist a stane an' in a 
hundred years he '11 be juist a stane still — ^unless he 's 
broken up, an' then he '11 be juist not a stane but he '11 no 
ken what 's happened to him because he did no break up 
gradual an' first lose his boat an' then his hoose an' then 
hae his wee grandson taken away when he was for tellin' 
him a bit story before he gangs tae his bed. — It 's yon 
losing yer grip bit by bit an' kennin' that ye 're losing it 
that makes a philosopher, John. 

John. If I kennt what ye meant by philosophy, Feyther, 
I 'd better able to follow ye. 

(Lizzie enters quietly and closes door after her.) 

John {turning to Lizzie). Is he asleep? 

Lizzie. No, he 's no asleep, but I 've shut both doors, 
an' the neighbours canna hear him. 

John. Aw, Lizzie 

Lizzie (sharply). John 

David. Whit was I tellin' ye, John, about weans gettin^ 
their ain wey if the neighbours had ears an' they lived 
close. Was I no' richt? 

Lizzie (answering for John, with some acerbity). Aye, 
ye were richt, Feyther, nae doot, but we dinna live that 
close here, an' the neighbours canna hear him at the back 
o' the hoose. 

David. Mebbe that 's why ye changed Alexander into 
the parlor an' gied me the bed in here when it began to 
get cauld. 

Lizzie (hurt). Aw, no, Feyther, I brought ye in here 
to be warmer — 

David (placably). I believe ye, wumman — (with a faint 
twinhle again) but it 's turned oot luckily, has it no'? 

(David waits for a reply, hut gets none. Lizzie fetches 
needle work from dresser drawer and sits above table. 



276 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

David's face and voice take on a more thoughtful 
tone.) 

David (musing). Puir wee man. If he was in here 
you 'd no ' be letting him greet his heart oot where onybody 
could hear him. Wud ye? 

Lizzie {caVnily). Mebbe I 'd no\ 

John. Ye ken fine ye 'd no', wumman. 

Lizzie. John, thread my needle, an dinna take Feyther 's 
part against me. 

John {surprised). I 'm no' 

Lizzie. No, I ken you 're no' meaning to, but you men 
are that thrang^ 

{She is interrupted hy a loud squall from David, which 
he maintains, eyes shut, chair-arms gripped, and mouth 
open for nearly half a minute before he cuts it off 
abruptly and looks at the startled couple at the table.) 

Lizzie. Mercy, Feyther, whit 's wrang wi' ye? 

David {collectedly) . There 's naething wrang wi' me, 
Lizzie, except that I 'm wantin' to tell wee Alexander a 
bit story 

Lizzie {firmly hut very kindly). But ye 're no' goin' 

to {She breaks off in alarm as her father opens his 

mouth preparatory to another yell, which, however, he 
postpones to speak to John.) 

David. Ye mind whit I was sayin' about the dispensa- 
tion o' Providence to help weans till they could try for 
theirselves, John? 

John. Aye. 

David. Did it no' occur to ye then that there ought to 
be some sort of dispensation to look after the auld yins 
who were past it? 

John. No. 

* Thrang = thick. 



Material for Interpretation 277 

David. Aweel — it didna occur to me at the time — {and 
he lets off another prolonged wail.) 

Lizzie {going to him). Feyther! The neighbours 11 
hear ye ! ! 

David {desisting as before). I ken it fine. I ^m no' at 
the back of the hoose. {Shorter wail.) 

Lizzie {almost in tears). They '11 be comin' to ask. 

Davtd. Let them. They '11 no' ask me. {Squall.) 

Lizzie. Feyther — ye 're no' behaving well. John 

John. Aye ? 

Lizzie {helplessly). Naething Feyther, stop it! 

They '11 think ye clean daft. 

David {ceasing to howl and speaking with gravity). I 
ken it fine, Lizzie; an' it 's no' easy for a man who has 
been respectit an' lookit up to a' his life to be thought daft 
at eighty-three, but the most important thing in life is to 
get yer ain wey. {Resumes wailing.) 

Lizzie {puzzled, to John). Whit 's that? 

John. It 's his philosophy what he was talking aboot. 

David {firmly). An' I 'm gaein' to tell wee Alexander 
yon story tho' they think me daft for it. 

Lizzie. But it 's no' for his ain' giiid, Feyther. I 've 
telt ye so, but ye wudna listen. 

David. / wudna listen, wumman! It was you wudna 
listen to me when I axed ye whit harm — {checking him- 
self). No. I 'm no' gaein' to hae that ower again. I 've 
gied up arguin' wi women. I 'm.just gaein' tae greet loud 
an' sair till wee Alexander 's brought in here to hae his bit 
story, an' if the neighbours {Loud squall.) 

Lizzie {aside to John). He 's fair daft. 

John {aghast). Ye 'd no' send him to 

Lizzie {reproachfully). John 

{A louder squall frow, the old man.) 



278 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 

Lizzie. Oh, Feytlier Cbeseechingly). 

(A still louder one.) 
Lizzie Cheating her hands together distractedly) . He 11 

be Will He'll Och!! (Resigned and 

heaten.) John, go and bring wee Alexander in here. 
(John is off like a shot. The opening of the door of the 
other room can he told hy the hurst of Alex^vnder's 
voice. The old man^s wails have stopped the second 
his daughter capitulated. John returns with Alex- 
ander and hears him to his grandfather's waiting 
knee. The hoy's tears and howls have ceased and he 
is smiling triwnphantly . He is, of course, in his night- 
shirt amd a hlanket which Grandpa wraps round him, 
turning towards the fire.) 
Lizzie {looking on with many nods of the head and 
smacks of the lips.) There you are! That 's the kind o' 
boy he is. Greet his heart oot for a thing an' stop the 
moment he gets it. 

David. Dae ye expect him to gae on after he 's got it? 
Ah, but Alexander, yer didna get it yer lane this time — it 
took the twa o' us. An' hard work it was for the Auld 
Yin! Man {playing hoarse) I doot I 've enough voice 

left for a {hur sting out very loud and\ making the 

hoy laugh). Aweel! Whit 's it gaein' to be — eh? 

Harold Chapin, 



PART III 
BIBLIOGRAPHY 



SECTION XIV 
GENERAL REFERENCES 

BOOKS OF EEFERENCE 

^'Dialect Notes," American Dialect Society. (Several volumes.) 

"Modern Language Notes." (Several volumes.) 

''Seen on the Stage," Clayton Hamilton, Ch. 2. 

''Browning and the Dramatic Monologue," S. S. Curry, Ch. 13. 

' ' Yankee Fantasies, ' ' Percy Mackaye, Introduction. 

"Irish Poems," Arthur Stringer, Introduction. 

"American Speech," Calvin Lewis, Ch. 5. 

"American Speech," H. L. Mencken. 

EEFEEENCE AETICLES 

"A Study in the Correction of Dialectic English," D. W. Eedmond^ 

Eng. Journal, Oct. 1914. 

"Standard of American Speech," F. N. Scott, Eng. Journal, Jan^ 
1917. 

"The Stage and Better Speech," W. P. Daggy, Speech Quarterly ^ 
Nov. 1921. 

"Vocal Elements that Cause Foreigners Difficulty in the Pronuncia- 
tion of English, " E. M. Michaels, Thesis, U. of Wis., 1919. 

LIST OF BOOKS OF COLLECTED EEADINGS CONTAINING 

DIALECT 



Title of Booh 
"Best Things from 
Best Authors" 

"Choice Eeadings" 



"Dialect Ballads" 
"Handbook of Best 



AutJior or Compiler PuhlisTier 

C. Shoemaker's (com- Penn Pub. Co., Phila- 
piler) (28 vol.) delphia 

E. L. Cumnock A. C. McClurg, Chi- 



C. F. Adams 
S. H. Clark 

281 



cago 
Harper Bros., N. Y. 
Scribner, N. Y. 



282 



Dialects for Oral Interpretation 



Title of Boole Author or Compiler 

** Humorous Speaker * ' P. M. Pearson 

''Modern Literature G. E. Johnson 
for Oral Interpre- 
tation ' ' 



Fublisher 
Hinds & Eldredge, 
N. Y. 

Century Co., N. Y. 



Marjorie B. Cooke 



'^ Modern Mono- 
logues ' ' 

*'One Hundred Choice C. Shoemaker (com- Penn Pub. Co., Phila- 
Selections" piler) (20 vol.) delphia 

''Eeadings from Lit- Halleck & Barbour 
erature" (compilers) 

^'Eeadings and Eeci- (58 Vol.) 
tations ' ' 



Charles Seegel, Chi- 
cago 



American Book Co., 
N. Y. 

E. S. Werner, N. Y. 



'Studies in Dialect" M. M. Babcock (com- University of Utah 



piler) 

MISCELLANEOUS 

*' Selections for Oral C. M. Feuss 
Reading ' ' 

'^ Standard Selec- Fulton & Trueblood 

tions ' ' 

^ ' Selected Readings ' * Anna Morgan 

< ' Soper 's Dialect H. M. Soper 

Readings ' ^ 

*' Scrap Book Recita- H. M. Soper (com- 
tions" piler) (15 vol.) 



Press, Salt Lake 
City 



Macmillan Co., N. Y. 

Ginn & Co., Boston 

A. C. McClurg, Chi- 
cago 

T. S. Dennison & Co., 
Chicago 

T. S. Dennison & Co., 
Chicago 



Authors whose writings afford good selections either all Dialect, 
or Dialect in part. The list includes colloquial Dialects found in 
various parts of the United States and child Dialect. 



PROSE 



James Lane Allen 

J. J. Bell 

Alice Brown 

J. M. Barrie 

Ellis Parker Butler 

Peter F. Dunne 

Charles Dickens 



Josephine Dodge Daskam 

Dorothy Dix 

William Allan Droomgoold 

Norman Duncan 

John Fox, Jr. 

Georce Fitch 

Mary E. W. Freeman 



Bibliography 



283 



Eugene Field 
Montague Glass 
Zona Gale 
Sally Pratt Greene 
O. Henry 
Joel C. Harris 
Fanny Hurst 
Jerome K. Jerome 
Owen Johnson 



Charles B. Loomis 
Joseph C. Lincoln 
Ian Maclaren 
Helen E. Martin 
F. HoPKiNsoN Smith 
EuTH McEnery Stuaet 
Marie Van Slyke 
Henry van Dyke 
Owen Wistes 



poetry 



Wallace Bruce Amsbaey 

Burton Braley 

Gillette Burgess 

Edmond Vance Cooke 

HoLMAN F. Day 

Paul Laurence Dunbar 

William H. Drummond 

T. A. Daly 

Sam Walter Foss 

EoBERT Frost 

Eugene Field 

James W. Foley 

Strickland Gillilan 



Wallace Irwin 
Burgess Johnson 
James F. Kirk 
Joseph C. Lincoln 
W. M. Letts 
John Masefield 
Percy MacKaye 
J. W. Eiley 
Irwin Eussell 
Arthur Stringer 
E. L. Stevenson 
Nixon Waterman 



SECTION XV 
DETAILED LIST OF SELECTIONS 



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S04 Dialects for Oral Interpretation 



ADDRESSES OF PUBLISHERS IN ABOVE LIST 

**100 Choice Selections" and "Shoemaker's Best Selections," Penn 

Pub. Co., 925 Filbert St., Philadelphia, Pa. 
''Choice Selections," Cumnock, and ''Selected Readings," Morgan, 

A. C. McClurg & Co., Wabash Ave., Chicago, lU. 
"Werner's Readings," Edgar S. Werner & Co., 43 E. 19th St., New 

York City. 
Ginn & Co., Boston, Mass. 
Chas. Scribner's Sons, New York City. 
Century Co., New York City. 
Hinds & Eldredge, New York City. 
University Press, Salt Lake City, Utah. 
American Book Co., New York City. 
Harper Bros., New York City. 



INDEX 



SCOTCH 



Artist, The .... 
Auld Daddy Darkness 

Banks o' Doon, the . 



Cuddle Doon . 

Coom, Lassie, Be Good to 



Did You Ever? . . 

Highland Mary 

Last May a Braw Wooer 



My Ain Wife . 
My Ain Fireside 



* Scotch Wooing, A . 
She Liked Him Rale Weel 

Twa Weelums, The . 

* Twa Courtin 's, The . 



Wife He Wants, The . 
* Why No Scotchmen 

Heaven .... 
When Mither's Gane . 



Me 



Go 



to 



John Stevenson . 
Joseph Ferguson 

Eobert Burns 

Alexander Anderson 
Charles Mcllvane 

John Stevenson . 

Eobert Burns . 

Eobert Burns . 

Francis Bennoch 
William Hamilton 

Jerome K. Jerome 
Andrew Wauless 

Violet Jacobs 
David Kennedy . 

John Stevenson . 

Anonymous . 
Anonymous . 



ITALAN 



* An Italian 's Views on the 
Labor Question Joseph Kerr . 



Between Two Loves .... T. A. Daly . 
' ' Descended from Christoph ' 

Colomb" Fred Emerson Brooks 



Those starred are in prose. 



PAGE 

65 
63 

48 

60 

72 

56 
58 
64 

57 

54 

61 
45 

46 
51 

49 

55 
71 



82 
75 

84 



305 



306 



Index 



Da 'Mericana Girl . . .: . T. A. Daly . . >: . 

Da Veera Leetla Baby . . ,„ T. A. Daly . . ., . 

Da Posta-Card from Napoli . T. A. Daly . . .,: ,, 

Mia Carlotta T. A. Daly . . >, ... 

So Glad for Spreeng .... T. A. Daly . .-. .-. .. 

NEGEO 

* Aunt Amity 's Silver Wedding Euth McEnery Stuart . 

* Brer Eabbit and the Little 

Girl Joel Chandler Harris . 

Dancing in the Flat Creek 

Quarters John A. Macon . 

De Circus Turkey Ben King .... 

De Namin' ob de Twins . . . Mary Fairfax Childs . 

Dance, The Irwin Eussell 

* ' ' Dey Ain 't No Ghosts " . . Ellis Parker Butler . . 
De Cusliville Hop Ben King .... 

* Dark Brown Diplomat, A . . Marjorie Benton Cooke 

In the Morning Paul Laurence Dunbar . 

Nebuchadnezzar Irwin Eussell . 

OP Joshway and de Sun . . . Joel Chandler Harris. . 

Opportunity Paul Laurence Dunbar . 

Theology in the Quarters . . . John A. Macon . 

* Tale of the Possum, The . . Joel Chandler Harris . 

* Why the Guineas Stay Awake Joel Chandler Harris . 

FEENCH AND FEENCH CANADIAN 

Charmette William H. Drummond . 

Dieudonne William H. Drummond . 

''De Nice Leetle Canadienne" . William H. Drumm.ond 

De Cirque at 01' Ste. Anne . . Wallace Bruce Amsbary 

Family Laramie, The .... William H. Drummond 

Football at Chebanse .... Wallace Bruce Amsbary 

Little Battese ,. William H. Drummond . 



PAGE 

77 
80 
81 

79 

76 



96 



115 



113 

91 
100 
104 
105 
112 

93 



111 

94 
118 

99 
120 

102 



132 

125 
131 
137 

135 

127 

126 



Index 



307 



* Eesponse to a Toast . 
Wreck of the ^' Julie Plante^ 



Litchfield Moseley . 
William H. Drummond 



SCANDINAVIAN 



Abou Swen Anson 
Ai Tank So 



William F. Kirk 
J. B. Babcock . 



Barefoot Boy, The 
Courtship of Miles Standish . 
George Washington . . 



William F. Kirk 
William F. Kirk 
William F. Kirk 



Stealing a Eide . . . . . William F. Kirk 
Sheridan's Eide ..... William F. Kirk 



PAGE 

134 

140 



150 
152 

147 

149 

146 

151 
145 



lEISH 



* Borrowing a Pie 
Birds . . . . 



Choice, The . . . 

Childer 

Corrymeela .... 
Cloidna of the Isle 
Cuttin' Eushes . 
Circumstances Alter Cases 
Cut Finger, The . . 



Drownded .... 

* Donegal Fairy, A 

Evening Up, The . . 
Fair, The .... 
I'll Niver Go Home Again 

* King O 'Toole and His Goose 

* New Year 's Eesolutions 

* Natural Philosopher, A . . .. 

* On Political Parades 

Ould Doctor MaGinn . . . . 



Charles B. Loomis 
Moira O'Neill . 



W. M. Letts . 
Arthur Stringer 
Moira O'Neill 
Arthur Stringer 
Moira O'Neill 
Anonymous . 
EUis Parker Butler 



W. M. Letts . . 
Letitia McClintock 

Arthur Stringer . 

Theodosia Garrison 

Arthur Stringer 

Samuel Lover 



F. P. Dunne 
T. Maccabe 



F. P. Dunne . . 
Arthur Stringer . 



On Charity ■,. F. P. Dunne 



195 
171 

170 

170 
189 
188 
166 
193 
158 

165 
183 

164 

176 

179 

172 

190 
162 

167 
182 
180 



308 



Index 



Pat Magee . 
Pride of Erin . 



Lena Gyles . 
Arthur Stringer 



Says She . . :. i. . . ■., W. M. Letts . . 

Tomorrow .^ Alfred Tennyson 

Wife My Brother Got, The . . Padric Gregory . 

Wise Man, The Arthur Stringer . 

Wishing Bridge, T^e .... Euth Comfort Mitchell . 

MISCELLANEOUS 
Dog Story, A (German) . . . John T. Brown . :. ., 



Foreign Views of the Statue 
(Medley) 



* Hans' Hens (German) . 
John Chinaman's Protest 



Fred E. Brooks . . . 
Charles Battell Loomis 
Anonymous .... 



Mr. Schmidt's Mistake (Ger- 
man) Charles F. Adams 



Eustic Song, A (Medley) 



Alfred Tennyson 



Spinster's Sweet Arts, The 

(Lincolnshire) Arthur C. Deane 



PAGB 

192 
199 

177 

184 

198 
157 
159 



215 

206 
203 
213 

208 
210 

205 



ONE-ACT PLAYS IN DIALECT 

Philosopher of Butterbiggens, 

The (Scotch) Harold Chapin . 



Eider of Dreams, The (Negro) 
Eamlet o' Puce, The (Irish) 



Eidgeley Torrence . 
Bertha N. Graham . 



Spoiling the Broth (Yorkshire) A. McClure Warnock 



265 

227 

249 

219 



Books of Eeference 281 

Eeference Articles 281 

List of Books of Collected Eeadings Containing Dialect . . . 281 

List of Authors furnishing Dialect Material, Prose and Poetry , 282 

Bibliography of Four Hundred Selections 287 









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